


Rare Pair Bingo 2019

by Spiraling (Stormwind13)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Stargate Atlantis Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Animalistic Traits, Body Swap, Canon-Typical Violence, Female Friendship, Mostly Gen, Multi, Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019, Pre-Relationship, Rare Pairings, Soulmates, Time Travel, Unhealthy Relationships, animal summons, jutsu accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 37,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormwind13/pseuds/Spiraling
Summary: Prompt Fills For Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019





	1. Ino/Sai - marriage of convenience

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts and feedback were provided by [elenathehun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenathehun/works) , [Hiruma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiruma_Musouka/pseuds/Hiruma_Musouka), and [theroadkillcafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroadkillcafe/pseuds/theroadkillcafe)

“We should get married,” Ino said, putting down her ramen bowl - it hadn’t been that good anyway, but Naruto had been the one to suggest the venue, so she’d gone along with it. Next time she was arguing for one of the restaurants that the Akimichi family owned. They were all jonin, except Naruto, they should be able to afford it. And it wasn’t as though Naruto was hurting for cash - he’d been given the money for the bounty on both the Zetsu and Obito as members of Atkatsuki.

Naruto choked, wheezing as Sakura pounded him on the back, looking as though she was trying not to laugh. She’d known this was coming, it had been her suggestion after all, when Ino had complained to her earlier in the week about how pushy the clan elders were getting. Sai paused before carefully balancing his chopsticks on his own bowl.

“Why would you want to marry Naruto?” he asked, looking only mildly curious. “Are you going to challenge Hyuga for him, because he doesn’t seem worth her beating you.”

As though she was going to marry Naruto. No, Hinata was welcome to him, and Ino was happy she wasn’t going to be drafting up that marriage agreement. The next clan heir having traces of demon fox in their veins and not being pureblood Hyuga? The elders had to be having fits and Ino was expecting to hear about a demand for abdication any day now.

“As if I would,” she sniffed, ignoring Naruto’s outraged squawk. “You. It isn’t as though you’ve got people lining up in front of your door.”

Between his general overall demeanor, abrasiveness, and the fact he was well known to have been tied to Danzo and ROOT, it was a wonder that Sai managed to have more friends than Sakura and Naruto. And Naruto, Ino could understand - he’d bond with a fence post if given adequate time with it, since he still wanted external validation to an almost unhealthy degree even if he had finally shut up about the hokage thing.

Sakura - not so much, but Ino didn’t pretend to understand everything about how her friend’s mind worked. Too much time being trained one on one with Kakashi-sensei. “Well?” she asked when Sai stared at her blankly. “Marriage, yes or no?”

“A person with no family would be ideal for you,” Sai said after a moment, resuming eating. “And my desire to create bonds is well known in our peer group.”

It really was, to a nearly pathetic degree, but Sai was just-- He needed a brain to mouth filter installed. Ino might strategically not use hers on occasion, but she recognized the situations where one was called for. “I’m going to take that as a yes, then.”

“What-? You don’t even like each other!” Naruto accused, pointing a finger at the two of them. “You can’t just get married!”

Ino stared at him. “What does liking each other have to do with getting married? People get married for reasons that have nothing to do with liking each other all of the time.”

As far as she knew, her parents hadn’t started out liking each other - her mother had been from one of the branch families of the clan and she and Dad had only really interacted a few times before they were married. Sometimes it was so painfully obvious that Naruto was self-raised. Even Sakura realized that love didn’t conquer all and she’d been hung up on Sasuke for years before finally realizing she could do better.

“But- Sasuke! You and Sakura fought over him for years!”

She was a little concerned she’d broken him, now, but unlike some blond haired shinobi, Ino was capable of moving on from lost causes.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “When we were younger, Naruto. Besides, Ino and Sasuke wasn’t ever going to happen anyway, they were both from kekkei genkai clans. And then clan heirs.” She ate some more of her ramen before continuing, “And it was about one uping each other, not Sasuke, not really.”

“Besides, I don’t have to like him to sleep with him,” Ino said, which was the whole point of this. Because she was not marrying one of her second cousins - they were all at least a decade older than her and ambitious to boot. She was the clan head, she was going to run the clan.

“I assume I would join the clan, then.”

And she had him. She’d known that need for belonging would make him more likely to agree and his general overall personality and outsider status would keep him from being a threat to her position.

“Obviously,” she said, beaming at him. “Come by the main house in three days. I’ll have the marriage agreement ready to go.”

That should shut the elders up.


	2. Izuna/Mito - Accidental Child Acquisition

“Ok,” Izuna muttered, staring at the menu and barely refraining from wrinkling his nose. It had been  _ years _ since he’d actually set foot in any sort of fast food restaurant, but he was trying to keep a low profile and his usual preferences were not child welcoming. And he doubted his current charges would have any appreciation for decent food in any case. But needs must and he’d had to deal with worse things for a job. 

At least the two children seemed appreciative when he turned up with the food, tearing into it as he called Mito. He winced as he glanced at his watch - she was twelve hours behind him and was probably still asleep. 

“What happened?” Not, he thought, that you’d know it from the way she answered the phone. There wasn’t a single trace of sleepiness in her tone and he’d have been fooled if he wasn’t aware she always answered the phone like that. The speculation that his wife never slept never quite went away, which he knew amused her and she used to her advantage.

“There was a slight complication with the job,” he said, before outlining what he’d found at the house and his decision to bring the two children with him. The older girl had paused eating and was watching him sharply as the younger boy continued to devour his food. Izuna wondered if it was something in his tone or whether she understood English - something to test later. 

He could hear Mito moving around as she listened, the noises of her morning routine familiar, before she said, “No, leaving witnesses wasn’t an option, given that the message was for the man’s associates. But you did complicate things for yourself.”

“I’m aware.” Killing the children would have been easier, but he had rules, one of which was that he killed people he’d been paid to kill and no one else. Sometimes it was unavoidable, but he tried to make sure that those instances were few and far between. “But I knew my charming, intelligent wife would be able to help me come up with a good solution-”

Mito snorted. “Flatterer. Give me a few hours and try to stay out of trouble in the meantime - you were supposed to be long gone by the time that Ishikawa and the rest of them showed up. I’m going to need pictures of them, preferably passport style since you’ve decided to be a soft touch.” 

“I have not,” Izuna protested. The silence on the other end of the line was pointed and he sighed, “Maybe a little.  _ Don’t _ mention this to my brother.” 

Madara would tease him, but more to the point, he’d inevitably tell Tobirama, who would be  _ annoying _ about it. And Izuna didn’t shoot family. Well, fatally anyway, but Madara would be  _ disappointed  _ if he shot at Tobirama. For some reason. 

“I have an all day meeting with the Akimichi in an hour, your secret is safe for the moment,” Mito promised dryly. “I’ll get someone working on passports and do you need me to send Kushi-“

“ _ Absolutely not _ ,” Izuna said instantly. “Do not send your wreaking ball turned human anywhere near me.”

“She’s not that bad.” Mito sounded far too amused. 

“She dropped a  _ building _ on me,” Izuna pointed out. Of course, that mission had been shot anyway and he’d been in the subway tunnel under the building and well on his way away, but that really wasn’t the point right now. “Send her somewhere else to be a distraction. I’m sure Tobirama has some sort of operation she can blunder across.”

His brother-in-law deserved the frustration. 

“Of course dear,” Mito said, still amused. “I’ll have the documents delivered within eighteen hours. In the meantime, you might find out some more information for the passports, and I’ll see you at home within the next forty-eight hours.”

“It’s a date,” Izuna said, relaxing now that he more of an extraction plan in place. “We can try that new Brazilian place that Cho recommended.”

“I’ll make the reservations.” Mito’s voice softened. “Try to avoid getting shot, I hate canceling.”

“I know,” Izuna leaned against the wall, smiling slightly. “I’ll make sure you won’t have to. Have a good day, terrify the Akimichi.”

“When have I not?” Mito asked before hanging up.

Izuna turned back to the two kids, who had finished eating by this point and were huddled in the center of the bed. “Right. Well, we’re going to be here for a few hours, let’s see what’s on tv.”

He could put off figuring out what to do with them for a bit. 

  
  



	3. Tenten/Hinata - Hinata

She didn’t find out about the match until after she’d woken up and Lee had told her what happened during one of her visits. But after she finished visiting him, she tracked down Hinata, slightly surprised that she was still in the hospital and hadn’t been whisked away to recover in her family’s compound. Though,  _ Neji _ was there, so maybe they’d decided it’d be better to have her recover where she was under guard. 

Shinobi clans had problems. 

“Hey.” She gave a perfunctory knock on the door before moving and dropping into the chair next to Hinata’s bed. “We’re going to need to reschedule our spar.”

Hinata’s tiny smile was there and gone almost before Tenten noticed it, her friend’s fingers twisting in the sheets. “Of course. I’ve been told that I’m confined to bed for another three days.” 

“I’ve got a back brace for another week,” Tenten said, disgruntled. “I need to find some way to counter the wind. Who brings a  _ fan _ to a shinobi fight!” 

“A  fūton user?” Hinata asked dryly. “It’s a common weapon in Wind Country or for a kunoichi.” 

Tenten huffed and slumped down, narrowing her eyes at the younger girl. “ _ Tsunade _ doesn’t use a fan.”

Hinata’s fingers stopped twisting the sheets, relaxing now that they had moved over to more impersonal things. She’d noticed that, that Hinata always grew more nervous at the first sign that she might be inconveniencing someone… which made what she’d said to Neji more impressive, really. Tenten just needed to figure out if she could encourage that at all - Hinata would be  _ much _ better at sparring if she weren’t so timid. 

“Lady Tsunade doesn’t use  _ any _ weapons and isn’t a kunoichi anyway,” Hinata countered before frowning. “Your back isn’t permanently injured, is it? Not like-” she trailed off as Tenten grimaced. “You’ll recover.” 

"I’ll be fine,” Tenten said firmly, just as much a reminder to herself as a reassurance to Hinata. No one expected a career ending injury as a  _ genin _ . And what was Lee going to do? He didn’t have a family or any sort of support network and his injury meant that purely physical labor was out. Maybe he could be a desk shinobi, but her friend would  _ hate _ that. “Just a week in the back brace and limited sparring for two weeks after that. I’ll get reevaluated then.” 

“Oh.” They were back to her fiddling with the sheets. “If you want - I could-”

Tenten rolled her eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be better than sitting around going absolutely crazy.” 

“I could teach you to use a fan,” Hinata offered. “So you’re more familiar with how it works.” A small smile, “And you can put your seals on the fan and just use that to throw weapons at her.”

She was about to dismiss the idea - she wasn’t cut out to be a kunoichi and she’d rather deal with pointed weapons anyway - but stopped. “If I use the fan,” she said, not really focusing on Hinata, “I can use that to boost a wind jutsu… which will add more power to the weapons that I  _ do _ use.” She pulled a pad of paper off the side table, nearly upsetting a potted plant and ignoring the agitated buzzing coming from its general vicinity, making a note to put the plant outside - the last thing that the hospital wanted was bugs roaming everywhere. “If x is the amount of chakra that I put into the jutsu….” 

Hinata leaned over, carefully adjusting the IV in her arm, and watched her do the calculations for a minute. “Do you even know any wind jutsu?” 

She paused. “Ok, the first thing is to learn some wind jutsu.  _ Then _ I need to figure out the power needed… wait, do I know anyone that knows wind jutsu?” 

“Sarutobi-sensei is a fūton specialist,” Hinata said and Tenten made a face. She’d only interacted with the other jonin-sensei a few times, but she didn’t think that he’d be the best teacher that she could get. Maybe if she couldn’t find anyone else. “Or we could both learn them… if you don’t mind,” she added. 

“What, having a byakugan cheat to let me know what I’m doing wrong?” Tenten asked dryly. “I’d hate that. But that won’t cause any problems?” 

Neji was a pure taijutsu user - he knew some ninjutsu, but he tended to ignore it in favor of his family’s style, and from watching his other cousins and relatives spar at the Academy and during other sparring sessions, Tenten thought that was more family attitude than a Neji attitude. 

“No one is going to care,” Hinata admitted, “as long as I’m progressing adequately in the family style and don’t use it during my spars with Hanabi. But I think - knowing more distance attacks would be a good idea.” 

It might have helped keep Neji off her during the match, that was for sure. “Then we can learn them together,” Tenten said firmly. “And I need to learn to get  _ into _ someone’s range.” 

“I’ll learn how to keep people at a distance and you can learn to get close,” Hinata said, nodding firmly. “Now you need to go to the library and check out beginning scrolls for fūton users.” 

“ _ Now?” _ Tenten asked, laughing, but she was already standing. Hinata’s enthusiasm for self improvement was just as motivating as it was occasionally aggravating. “We’re not going to practice while you’re on bedrest!” 

“I don’t see why not,” Hinata said primly. “It’s a perfect chance to exercise control.”

  
Tenten waved as she exited the room, nearly bumping into Hinata’s two teammates and ignoring the suspicious look she got from the Inuzuka boy - Kiba, that was it!. She had a book to go get and then a staff full of nurses to annoy. 

Not a bad use of her day, really. 


	4. Mikoto/Fugaku - time travel

_Idiot boy_. 

Mikoto grabbed her sword on the way out of the door - did he honestly think that the wards wouldn’t tell her when blood had been spilled within their walls? Fugaku was heading for the wall and gate, leaving her to deal with their son. Fair enough, Itachi had been his pride and she wouldn’t ask that of him. 

She caught up to him three houses in, her lip curling in disgust. Of course he had targeted the houses with no active shinobi first - it wouldn’t do to have too much resistance so early on and the fact that they would have been distracted and scattered trying to hunt down the intruder would have been an advantage that he could have used. 

He managed to dodge, her years off the field making her slow, and she pivoted to face him, flaring her chakra as she did so. She was going to need to get back into fighting shape after this, clearly, but first she would execute her son. 

“I’m trying to-” 

She didn’t need to hear it. There was _no_ explanation that was going to ever justify the dead in the houses behind her and the fact that he thought that there _was_ \-- Clearly the village had managed to twist itself into his head, which only confirmed her belief that the clan would be better off with _them_ in the position of power. 

If he was here, though, the village knew and rather than speak and attempt to resolve their grievances, they had decided that wholesale slaughter was their answer. Mikoto glanced down the street, locating the innocuous looking statue slightly ahead of her, and flash stepped to it, surprising Itachi and slicing her palm open. She could heal the palm, but if she was to catch _all_ those with Uchiha blood in the village, she needed as much of her own as possible. Like called to like. 

She pivoted, lunging towards Itachi as he blinked and ignoring the sharp pain and nausea of being ripped through space, plunging her sword into her child’s gut while he was caught off guard by the shift before slitting his throat. 

Mikoto took a step back, composing herself as several members of the clan converged on her, and frowned, finally taking in the forest around them. This was _not_ where they had been intended to land - the trees were entirely unfamiliar and the safe houses that had been created were nowhere to be seen. 

The noise was growing as more people flooded towards her, confused and wanting answers, and Mikoto slammed her hands together, using chakra to enhance the sound and silencing the people around her. “Itachi attempted, with the backing of the village, to slaughter the vulnerable among us. Given that, the village is no longer-”

“Lady Mikoto,” one of the members interrupted, pointing behind her. She turned, following his finger, her gaze landing on the two boys standing in the shadow of the trees, focusing on the slightly taller one and his sharingan. Monk robes, clearly brothers - or at least half brothers - and large amounts of chakra. _Someone_ had broken the rules, possibly twice, and she was going to be dealing with _that_ as soon as she had dealt with everything else. 

They weren’t from the compound and she hadn’t been attempting to limit her chakra, so who knew where she’d grabbed them from, so she took a step forward - reassurance of some sort was needed. The older boy yanked the younger one back, stepping in front of him, alarm flaring across his face and Mikoto remembered that she was still holding her bloodied sword. She paused and handed the weapon off to one of the nearest people. 

The boy hadn’t yet run, which was good, because chasing them down would do nothing to calm them. 

Incredible pressure blanketed the clearing, driving them to their knees. Mikoto looked up as two - men dropped into the clearing and she stared. They both had horns and were dressed strangely. She had the vaguely hysterical thought that Hiashi was going to be furious that someone had been so careless as to lose a Hyuga child, but he was clearly related to the other man who bore three eyes, one of which slightly resembled a sharingan but could just as easily belong to a wayward Yuhi. 

The two boys raced over to the man with the byakugan, clinging to his robes, as the sandy haired man stepped forward and said something completely incomprehensible. She frowned at that - there was the main language common among the five elemental countries and most of the smaller ones, with any lesser known languages in the process of dying out, but this didn’t sound like any of the ones she’d heard. 

“I can’t understand you,” she said clearly, the man looking taken aback, before his brow furrowed and Mikoto’s stomach dropped - he couldn’t understand her. _Where_ were they? The byakugan man spoke, gesturing to the bodies, before the three-eyed one gestured and the pressure increased. Mikoto curled her fingers, digging them into the earth and noting the two boys didn’t even seem to notice as they watched. 

The earth shifted as the bodies of their fallen slid into neat rows, the man examining them before his gaze rested on her, clearly judging, before the pressure lessened. Mikoto rose cautiously, her kin following more slowly, as the man raised an eyebrow and gestured at the bodies, speaking as he did so, still in the same language. 

“He,” she pointed at Itachi before slicing a hand across her throat, “killed,” she shifted the finger to the twelve bodies on the ground, “them. I killed him.” 

There was a squawk and a fifteen-foot Heron landed between them, dumping _Hatake Kakashi_ \- how? Obito’s eye. That was the only explanation. She narrowed her eyes at the man, who was looking utterly confused and wary. “What the _hell_ just happened _?”_

“The village just suborned my son and used him to attempt to slaughter us in our homes,” she snarled, furious that Sarutobi’s dog had been pulled here as well. 

“Mom!” Sasuke threw himself at her as Hatake stilled, his eye darting to the corpses. Her son clung to her, which seemed to have the benefit of giving the two men pause, and Mikoto smoothed his hair down. “What happened?” He stiffened when he saw the bodies. “Itachi!”

The smaller of the two strange boys perked up when he saw Sasuke, saying something rapidly and pointing, the older one poking him sharply in response. Another burst of conversation - this was going to be incredibly frustrating, incredibly quickly. She relaxed as Fugaku appeared next to her, tugging Sasuke back to speak to him quietly. She would need to speak to him, but Fugaku could handle the initial explanation. 

She pursed her lips before pressing her palm to the ground, summoning the friendliest Queen she knew - when she was younger she had used her summons as a translator. There was a second before a Cat appeared, snarling and spitting and glaring at her. “How dare-” she stopped and sniffed the air, growling subvocally. “And who are you human? I have no human pets and yet you smell of my kin.” 

Mikoto shifted her mental processes instantly, because she couldn’t afford to freak out that her summons had no knowledge of her. “I am Uchiha Mikoto, thirty-second clan head of the Uchiha. Our clan has had a contract with yours since the clan’s founding-” a scroll was rapidly passed forward and she laid it between them respectfully, “-and I ask that you honor that contract to translate between me and the two men before me.” 

The Queen rose and sauntered over, Mikoto taking a second to see what the two men were doing. They both looked more intrigued than worried, but the smaller boy kept trying to inch closer and was being held back by his older brother. She was amazed at his foolishness before she remembered the boy’s relatives were right there and had expended no effort to bring an entire clan of shinobi to their knees. 

The Queen opened the contract, ignoring the Heron that was peering over it and sniffed. “This is very interesting, human. Especially since the first Queen to sign this is barely weaned.” 

“The date is also almost four hundred years removed,” the Heron added and Mikoto froze, stomach clenching before her gaze went to Itachi. What had her idiot son _done?_ That seal had been used before, if only rarely, and _never_ had it involved moving along the wheel of time. The Heron continued, “I shall introduce you to the Rabbit Goddess’s offspring-” She was a _myth_. A children’s story! “-so that they may decide what to do with you on their territory.” It ruffled its feathers. “Though you appear to have her blood running through your veins if very dilute.” 

“I shall assist you,” the Queen said imperiously. “You’ll do it wrong and they are our humans.” 

Mikoto stood, idly brushing dirt off her outfit, and following the Heron over to where the sandy haired man was standing, bowing stiffly. “I am Uchiha Mikoto, head of the Uchiha Clan. We apologize for our abrupt entrance and meant no harm.” 

There was a moment as the Queen repeated what she said and the two men exchanged a long glance before the sandy haired one inclined his head slightly. “I am Otsutsuki Hagoromo. Be welcome as we discover how you came to be here.” 

Mikoto relaxed slightly. This was - well, it wasn’t good. But it was much better than being trapped in a village that wished them dead or being hunted as traitors. 


	5. Izuna/Tobirama/Madara - randomizer (Stardust AU & nightmares)

The air drove out of his lungs. Tobirama rolled off the bed, wheezing and landed on his knees, reaching for his alchemy kit before he realized there was no threat here. Not right now anyway. Izuna scrambled off the bed, eyes wide, as Madara tossed in his sleep, expression tight, nearly panicked. There was a burst of light and Tobirama started moving again - Madara subconsciously defending himself on the ship wouldn’t end well for anyone. 

“Do Stars have nightmares?” he asked, carefully placing a hand on Madara’s shoulder, hoping that that would be enough to wake him up. Madara jerked away from the touch, but didn’t actually wake up. He was going to need to try harder. 

Izuna scowled. “We don’t _sleep_ ,” he said before adding grudgingly, “Not like humans do anyway.” At Tobirama’s flat look the scowl deepened, “It’s - no, we don’t have nightmares. Or we’re not supposed to at any rate. It’s not like I have a lot of Stars that fell I could ask, they kept getting _killed_.” 

Tobirama would take that as a tentative yes, given the current evidence, and he’d keep an eye on Izuna - he’d like to avoid getting attacked in his sleep. He reached out a hand and gave Madara a firm shake, seeing if that would work. 

The Star’s eyes flew open and he wrenched up, gaze darting around the cabin before landing first on Izuna and then on him, relaxing slightly. “That was- I _dislike_ this part of sleeping,” he said after a moment as Izuna climbed back into his preferred spot in the middle, Madara’s fingers automatically starting to comb through Izuna’s hair as his brother leaned against him. 

“Did you want to talk about it?” Tobirama offered. “It seems to help some people.” His younger siblings all seemed to feel better if they talked it out, taking some of the sting from the dream. _His_ preferred method was focusing on his work, but he didn’t think that was much of an option for Madara at the moment. 

Madara looked like he was going to refuse before he said, “We were back at the palace.” 

More memory than nightmare then, he thought, as Madara continued, “I wasn’t - I couldn’t _move_ , I couldn’t do anything-” 

Izuna caught Madara’s hand, stopping the motion and tangling their fingers together. “I’m fine. Tobirama and Mito are both fine,” a long pause, “and even your stupid prince is fine.”

“I _know_ ,” Madara said, “but it felt real.” 

Tobirama considered for a moment. “Izuna, switch spots with Madara for the night.” He waited until they were done moving before climbing into his usual spot closest to the door, Madara securely in the middle and Izuna against the wall of the room. “If Izuna sleeps better with people next to him, this might help,” he said. 

And he wasn’t giving up his spot - he felt far more comfortable when he was the one closest to the exit. “We’re on the _Maelstrom_ , Mito’s next door,” Tobirama said evenly. “Would you feel better out in the hammock?” 

It’d give the night watch fits, but it was a clear night - maybe being where they could see the other Stars would help. Madara considered for a second before shaking his head, “You won’t fit.” 

Him fitting wasn’t the issue - Tobirama wasn’t going to risk death climbing the bowsprit to get to the hammock in the first place. People that could survive a several hundred foot drop could do that. He laid down, letting Madara tug him until they were flush against each other, Izuna already half-asleep and curled into Madara’s side. 

He gave Madara a restless half hour of shifting before he said, “Tell me about your cluster, if you can’t sleep.” 

It started out slowly, Madara clearly thinking through what he said, before he started just talking, Tobirama listening until the words came slower, and finally died out altogether, leaving him awake and rubbing a stray lock of someone’s hair between his fingers. Hopefully these would be few and far between - living though almost being sacrificed had been enough, they didn’t need to go through it multiple times, not to mention they _really_ didn’t need to accidentally blow a hole in the side of the ship. 

But that was a problem for the morning.


	6. Hashirama/Mito - animal summons

“Do you think that she’ll like it?” Hashirama examined the scroll again, feeling pleased with himself. The negotiations with the lord had gone well and the Senju now had an exclusive contract to guard the man’s caravans on their way south, beating out the Hyuga. That might cause some problems later down the line, but not right now. And if he’d heard a rumor about a possible summoning scroll and tracked it down?

That was just a bonus. 

Tobirama had confirmed that it was a summons scroll, though neither of them were sure for what. Age had smudged the writing enough to be illegible and Hashirama had no desire to get into a surprise contract with anything. He’d considered just leaving it out for the elders to pick who would use it, but he’d remembered that he and Mito had been married almost a year. 

She’d seemed to like the room that he’d given her, intended for nothing more than her art when they’d first married. Her fuinjutsu supplies had migrated there over the past ten months, but he’d seen her sketches and paintings gradually migrating to the rest of their wing of the main house as well. 

His brother tilted his head, looking up from the scroll he was reading, and said pointedly, “You’re never going to know if you don’t give it to her.” 

Hashirama grinned ruefully. “I’m worrying over nothing, aren’t I?” 

Tobirama’s unimpressed look was answer enough, so he headed for Mito’s chakra signature. She was sitting in the small garden that he'd made off their - and it was _their_ bedroom - on a bench in front of the small koi pond, sketching out a seal. Hashirama gave it a quick glance but didn’t immediately find an obvious use for it. No matter, she’d tell him eventually. 

“Husband, you’re back.” Mito pressed a kiss to his cheek when he leaned over and he smiled, pleased that they could have that sort of affection, which was why he’d been so stubborn about not agreeing to the elder’s choices in the first place. “How was your trip?” 

“Good. We got what we needed.” He sat down next to her, eyeing her buns - he loved playing with her hair, but she insisted that it be up during the day. She shifted away from him, snapping her fan open and covering the lower half of her face, but he saw the slight smile. “I got you something.” 

The fan vanished in an instant and she leaned forward, interested. He took the scroll and held it out to her. “A summoning scroll. The Summons has been faded, but I thought that you might want to take a look.” The elders were going to have fits, but they could always find another summons somewhere. 

“Oh,” Mito turned the scroll over in her hands, examining it. “This will be interesting.” She grinned, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Do you want to see what it is?”

“ _ Now? _ ” Hashirama squawked, but Mito was already opening the scroll and laying it down on the ground. “What if it’s a tiger!” 

She laughed. “That’s what I have you for, husband. Now, let me see the terms.” She hummed softly as she read and he hovered over her shoulder. She pulled out a hair pin and pricked her index finger, carefully signing her name on it before adding her thumbprint to the bottom. 

There was a puff of smoke, the area around the scroll obscured for a moment before it rolled back to reveal - Hashirama tilted his head to the side. “What is it?” 

“Oh, how lovely.” Mito was staring at the thing with the closest to a lovestruck expression he’d seen on her before. “Hello there.” 

The thing shook its beaked head before turning to examine the area around it. “Who’re you? What’s- awww, someone found the contract?” It frowned at her. “You’re not going to make me doing lots of things right? I don’t like that crazy ninshu stuff you do. That’s for Cats.”

Mito laughed. “No, I do not do “crazy ninshu stuff”. I am much more sedate, if you would be willing to give me a chance.” It waddled over to her, flippers making it awkward, and clambered up into her lap, resting its head and front flippers on her leg, its large flat tail and back legs draped over her other leg. Mito petted it gently, smile widening as her fingers stroked its fur. “You’re very soft.” 

“Of course I am.” The thing said, cracking an eye and giving Hashirama a suspicious look. “I am Ichigo. As long as you don’t do flips and stuff. I’m too chubby for that, we can be in a contract.” 

“No,” Mito promised, “none of that.” She smiled at Hashirama. “See, not a tiger.” 

“No,” he agreed. “Not a tiger at all.” He was thrilled that this had worked out so well. 

But what the hell  _ was  _ it?


	7. Izuna/Tobirama - superheroes/villains

“He’s a jerk and I don’t like him!” Izuna said as he sat cross legged on the bed, scowling at his brother. “And all we have is a stupid invisibility anyway!”

“You kept a tree branch from falling on your heads,” Madara pointed out. “ _Then_ you turned invisible.”

Izuna blinked. “That was you and Hashirama.” His brother and friend could make plants grow and manipulate them. That was _much_ cooler than being able to _hide._ And Madara's partner wasn't a jerky know-it-all that thought he was smarter because he was two years older. 

“Something held it up long enough for us to graft it back on the tree,” Madara said. “We’re not fast enough to beat gravity.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. “He’s still a jerk.”

Madara sighed. “At least give it a shot. Telekinesis is a pretty cool power, even if you’re not best friends with him.”

Izuna scoffed, but Madara wasn’t _wrong._ Maybe he should try. Tobirama couldn’t really be _that_ bad. 

*~*~*~*

  
“I do not understand you two.” 

Izuna might have felt more sympathy for the guidance counselor if she wasn’t the sixth person this year to stare at them in that mix of exasperated frustration and incomprehension. As it was, he slouched in the chair, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “What’s to understand? He’s an asshole.”

“Better that than an impulsive idiot,” Tobirama said coolly, which just proved Izuna’s point perfectly. “Is there a point to this? Because one of the reasons my parents chose this school was a lack of pressure towards a career centering around abilities.”

“ _Y_ _ou held a bridge together!”_

“It wasn’t like it was the big one,” Izuna grumbled, ignoring the woman’s semi-hysteria. He couldn't wait for Tobirama to graduate so he'd have two glorious years free of having to deal with this before he went to college. “And we were on it, what were we supposed to do, fall in the river?”

Just because a pair had the ability to disassemble things didn’t mean they should try to extort a ransom from the city by disassembling the bridges - especially when _he_ was on them. He hoped whichever duo had taken care of that had broken the assholes’ noses. As it was, he had a massive headache - they’d fit their force field around the bridge like a glove until one of the pairs who could actually fix the damage showed up. 

The woman was actually sputtering. Izuna exchanged an annoyed look with Tobirama before glancing at the clock - Mom and Dad should be on their way and then they could escape. Until then, “Hey, if you want to talk about our powers, you could talk about how Tobirama vanished the bridge. Like an idiot.”

“That is a side effect of the force fields and you know it,” Tobirama snapped and Izuna grinned sharply. The older boy _hated_ not being good at something. 

“Really? Because I don’t remember putting a force field over all of the cars on the bridge,” he said, feeling better now that he could distract the counselor with something other than their amazing feats of self preservation. “And _I_ don’t use invisibility. That’s all you.”

“We both use the same powers!” Tobirama snapped his mouth shut and glared at him before pointedly pulling out one of his many, many extracurricular books and burying his nose in it. 

The counselor stared at them. “I’m going to sign you both up for sessions with the school psychologist. He specializes in pairs that might be having interpersonal issues and I think you might benefit.”

Right. Well, apparently the school needed a new psychologist and Izuna was always happy to help create openings. 

*~*~*~*

“Seriously?” Izuna demanded as soon as he saw his brother. “I have _finals!”_

“I don’t think that’s really the thing to be focusing on right now,” Madara said tightly, glaring at the… probably a man that had a tight grip on Izuna’s upper arms. There was a grunt and curse as Tobirama was shoved into the room as well, though they had the good sense to keep him outside the twenty foot circle he and Tobirama needed to be in to actually work together. Which was probably why Hashirama wasn’t in the room at all - he and Madara’s range on paper was almost a football field. 

Of course, the last time they’d had that tested, they’d been seniors. _Now_ their range was well over three miles. Which wasn’t surprising - the better that a pair meshed, the larger their range. Mom and Sumire didn’t even have to be in the same _state_. 

“I’ll be sure to tell Mom that when I fail then!” Focusing on that beat giving too much importance to the fact he’d apparently been _kidnapped by aliens._ Or the fact that his brother had a collar around his neck and cuffs on his wrists. Izuna tried to get loose, but the grip only tightened and he noticed the careful way that Madara was holding himself. No, he _really_ needed to keep calm. 

“You will do what we have asked you now.” A tall, pale woman turned, her three eyes - two pupil less white, one red and black - staring placidly at them. “And your siblings will be returned to you.”

Madara’s expression tightened. “I said _no._ And I know Hashirama isn’t agreeing either.” His gaze darted past Izuna, to where Tobirama was and then back to the woman, fingers flexing. “You wouldn’t give them back anyway.” 

The woman hummed, waving a hand. “Zetsu.” A stream of black puddled at Madara’s feet, oozing across the room to wind around her arm and rest on her shoulder. “I misspoke - your language is crude. You would be allowed to keep your siblings. I have relatives that might like new pets and I have no use for ones that have no value on the ship. You are already being allowed to spare your planet, out my gracious benevolence.” 

That was - that was too much blood. “What did you _do_ , you bi-” he choked as the man yanked an arm across his throat, pressing down on his windpipe. Madara took an abortive step forward, the woman smiling thinly. There were spots in his vision when he was released, hitting the floor and gasping for air. 

“I will allow you until our destination to decide whether your friend chooses which of your siblings will become acquainted with Zetsu or if you will do as you’re bid.” Izuna was going to _kill_ her. “Toss them in a cell.” 

\--

“We need to _leave_ ,” Izuna snapped. Tobirama didn’t say anything, watching the two guards with narrowed eyes. It was annoying but he _really_ needed to let that go - Tobirama was just as furious as he was, but that wasn’t going to help the fact that they _didn’t have the range_ they needed. No, that took time that they didn’t have and Izuna slammed a fist into the cell wall, glaring at the corridor before frowning. The front of the cells were fifteen feet long, with roughly six inches between cells. Tobirama was across the hall and two cells closer to the door. 

“Get over _here,_ ” Izuna hissed, doing the math. “And stop figuring out how to eviscerate the guards with your brain.” 

Tobirama glared at him. “We need their routine.” 

Izuna was going to _strangle him. “_ What the actual hell for? The only range we have is how far we can get from each other you _idiot_. We can kill them from _here_.” Tobirama didn’t look like he was going to move and of all of the stupid things to get tunnel vision over- “My brother was _bleeding_ , you-” 

Tobirama was across the cell in an instant, a snarl curling his lips. “If you think I didn’t notice that-” and _there_ it was, the feeling of two puzzle pieces sliding together perfectly. Izuna didn’t let him finish, slamming outward, the walls of the cell so much shrapnel. Tobirama was protected, the energy field protecting him. 

The guards however… Izuna nudged one with his foot. “Oh look. Their routine is _not moving_. Guess that was a waste of your time.” 

“And the other guards?” Tobirama demanded. “We can’t take on the entire ship ourselves- _they_ might have abilities, did you think of that? Our brothers aren’t exactly pushovers.”

Izuna shrugged, because actually, they could. “We held a bridge together. If we have to, we can hold the ship together. And stop acting like you were going to leave any of them alive anyway.”

“You are insane,” Tobirama said flatly, but he was coming over to join Izuna, barely sparing the guards a glance. “And congratulations, you’ve alerted the entire ship.” He frowned darkly and added, “They’re going to try to use them against us.”

Izuna flexed his fingers, eyeing the door that led to the rest of the ship. “They were going to do that anyway.” He swallowed, forcing himself to say, “And they’ve got those freakish healing abilities. They’ll be fine.” 

He wasn’t sure how well that was going to hold up if they started seriously hurting them, so they’d better find them quickly. 

Very quickly. 


	8. Sakura/Choji - jutsu accident

“Choji?” Sakura blinked and glanced down at the chart again - yes, she was supposed to examine him because of an anemia complaint. Alright, she wouldn’t have thought that  _ Choji _ of all people would have had that problem, but stranger things had happened. Maybe it was some sort of jutsu that Shikamaru or Ino was trying and hadn’t bothered to tell anyone. “Well, the blood test said that you’re severely anemic, which is a little worrying considering that that’s never been an issue before. Have you been trying any new jutsus? Practicing with your family’s pills?” 

That could have been the issue, but she didn’t think that any Akimichi would be so careless as to use those during practice. And Choji more than most was responsible enough to not do so, especially with those pills. 

“It was a new jutsu I’m practicing,” Choji said, looking nervous. “I haven’t told Ino or Shikamaru yet, they’ve been busy and I don’t want to bother them.” 

Sakura wondered for a second before she remembered why  _ she _ hadn’t seen Ino recently. Both his teammates had had to step into their new positions as clan heads - Choji was probably feeling awkward, especially since rumors had it the Nara weren’t fully pleased with Shikamaru. “I won’t mention it to her,” she said after a second. “Provided that you don’t practice whatever it was without having someone there - red blood counts this low aren’t nothing, you could cause problems.” 

Choji frowned, but nodded. “I can do that. Hey,” he said, “do you have any recommendations for books on the bloodstream?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “On second thought, what jutsu are you trying to learn?” There weren’t many jutsus that targeted the venous system and she knew most of them. 

He flushed, looking embarrassed, and named the jutsu. “That’s a medical jutsu,” she said. “And you’re trying to weaponize it?” It wasn’t that surprising or even new, but after Orochimaru and Kabuto, it left a sour taste in her mouth. 

“No!” Choji said quickly. “Nothing like that. I’m trying to teach myself medical jutsus, that’s all. It’s hard to find a teacher for the higher level jutsus.” 

That was not what she’d been expecting. “Oh. You know that the amount of control needed is-”

“Yeah,” Choji said shortly, which was enough out of character that she stared at him, but he was focusing on the door. “Listen, I promise you won’t see me again.” 

Sakura bit her lip as he got up, before mentally rearranging her schedule. “Did you want me to help?” 

He stopped, staring down at her. “What?” 

“Did you want me to help,” she repeated. “You’re going to learn medical jutsu a lot better with a teacher and I have some free time in my schedule.” She didn’t actually, now that Tsunade was starting to divest herself of the Hokage’s hat as quickly as possible. But if Choji has gotten to the point he was starting to work with the higher level jutsu, she wanted  _ someone _ involved. 

At least she could fix it if something went wrong. 

——

“I know my chakra control isn’t great,” Choji said, tilting the paper she’d handed him, “but I didn’t think it was bad enough for kid’s exercises.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the kid’s version.” She tapped the image, a curled cat on chakra sensitive paper. “You need to put chakra into the parts of the cat in order, or it doesn’t do anything fun.” He stared at her, clearly waiting for more information and she relented - it wasn’t as though he’d had any of the actual classes. She’d checked, before they’d met up at the hospital to use the building’s training rooms. “You need to start with the stripes, working your way from the tail to the head, and then go back towards the tail and fill in the white areas. Don’t break it.” 

It was a very intricate piece of seal work that no one at the hospital could reproduce quite right, so she’d had to promise untold favors to get it for this. 

Choji nodded seriously, focusing on the paper as she hovered over his shoulder, wanting to see how he did without her input. It wasn’t  _ bad _ , for someone that had decided to teach themselves medical jutsu, but it definitely could be better. She let him run his chakra through the paper a few more times, before taking a prudent step to the side just as the paper let out a truly bloodcurdling yowl and spat several ounces of black ink at him. 

He blinked and Sakura choked back giggles at the vaguely stunned expression on his face. “It gets annoyed if you mess up too many times. It’s fine,” she added hastily as the stunned expression morphed into embarrassed irritation, “all of the medic nin have to stroke the cat.”

There was a long pause before his lips twitched in reluctant amusement, faint red peeking through the ink splotches on his cheeks. “You don’t really call it that in front of people, do you?” 

She blinked at him, fighting to hide her own grin, and asked innocently, “Why not? That’s what we’re doing.” She watched him struggle for a second before deciding to take pity and move on, “If you can manage to fill the paper with chakra three times in a row without getting sprayed with ink, then you’ll have the chakra control needed to not give yourself anemia.” 

“I’ll wear older clothes,” Choji said, studying the paper thoughtfully. “Any other exercises that you could recommend, that I can do at home?” 

“Sure.” She had several and she started writing them down, asking as she did, “Why did you decide to learn? There’s not a lot of reward or anything.” 

Medics weren’t given the same accolades as the front line shinobi, only noticed when things went wrong, and except for a few exceptions, most of the shinobi that Sakura knew - herself included - wanted at least some form of recognition. 

Choji was quiet for a moment before he said, “Someone needs to take care of the other two.” 

She looked up, not sure how to interpret the tone of voice, but he was staring off into the distance before he shook his head and tilted it towards her, smiling slightly. “And it will give Ino something else to push Shikamaru for, if we all have specialties.” 

“That is true,” she agreed dryly, finishing her list. “You come by between sixth and third hour, I’ll be free.” She’d need to give up her lunch, but she thought that might be worth it. 

  
\----

“Great job!” 

Sakura beamed at him and Choji flushed, pleased by the praise. She didn’t give it lightly. She wasn’t like some of the teachers, that would insult or belittle you, but she didn’t hand out compliments often either. In the three months she’d been tutoring him, he could count the number of compliments on two hands and have fingers left over. 

“I had a good teacher.” It was true too, much to his surprise - he’d known her since they were six, first as ‘that timid friend of Ino’s’ then as Ino’s rival and apparent arch nemesis through their Academy years and then as Tsunade’s apprentice. He knew she was loud, obsessed with Sasuke, and could be incredibly pushy. Somehow, he’d missed she was a decent teacher. 

Her cheeks dusted pink and she slapped her hands together, the noise echoing. “Well, you make it easy.” She shifted, “You’ve got the chakra control you need to find a teacher, if you want. One with more experience than me.”

He could but, “I’d like if you’d keep teaching me. I’ve learned more from you than anyone else.” She’d actually thought he could do it, for one, and he - he liked spending time with her. 

“Oh.” Sakura looked startled before she warned, “I’m not going to start going easy on you.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” Feeling emboldened he blurted, “Did you want to go to Yakiniku Q for lunch?”

She blinked, looking startled before the expression shifted to considering, and smiled slightly. “Sure. I’ve never been, you’ll have to tell which dishes are the best.”

“They’re all the best,” he said cheerfully. “But I can tell you which ones Ino and Shikamaru like best.”

Sakura laughed, brushing some dust off her pants. “I’m not going with them. I’ll bet you have a favorite dish, even if you won’t admit it.”

“I don’t!” He insisted, falling in next to her as the left the hospital grounds, feeling pleased. “I love all their food equally.”

Messing up the jutsu had been an excellent mistake. 


	9. Shino/Hinata/Kiba - animalistic traits

“Hey man, you alright?” Kiba asked, watching as Shino rubbed his fingers together, the faint chirping noise almost inaudible to everyone, even if the other Inuzuka in the mission waiting room were starting to send them dirty looks. But the nervous habit wasn’t one that he’d seen often since the end of the Fourth War. It definitely wasn’t one he’d seen since his friend had married Hinata and she’d moved into the Aburame compound. “Did the kids smear honey all over the door frames again?” 

Shino turned his head slightly and  _ stared _ at him. “No. Why? Because if they did they’d spend a week doing emergency survival training in the Forest of Death.” 

“They’re six.” Kiba grabbed the mission roster from the squawking chunin and checked to see if Choji was in the village - his friend had mentioned something about experimenting with some sort of new super food for ninken. “You can’t drop six-year-olds in the Forest of Death.” He paused and considered before amending, “Not anymore anyway.” 

His teammate pushed his glasses up. “I can convince the Hokage to sign off on it.” Akamaru leaned against Shino, whining happily when the man scratched behind his ears. “And no. My  kikaichū are restless and I cannot pinpoint a cause. It is disconcerting.” 

“Weird. You talk to your dad?” Kiba gave Akamaru a quick pat on the head, plucking off one of Shino’s insects and handing it back. “I’m in the village, we’ve talked about this.” 

A slight frown. “They find your chakra comforting to eat. And not yet. Why? I wished to ascertain the reason for myself.” 

Kiba snorted. “In the village, keep your trackers to yourself, you know where to find me. Besides, I’m over at your place most of the time anyway.” The second most important group in his life was there, why wouldn’t he be? “But other than apparently craving my delicious, delicious chakra, any other things you noticed?” 

“There has been an uptick in egg laying,” Shino said after a second as they left the building, stepping into the muggy heat of Fire Country summer. “It is becoming uncomfortable.” 

“I thought it looked like you’ve gained weight,” Kiba said cheerfully. “So, weird food cravings, uptick in egg production, slight increase in temper what with wanting to murder thirty six-year-olds - you sound like Ino.” 

There was a long pause. “Ino has not had an uptick in egg production. She’s utilizing her limited eggs already.” 

Kiba glanced around for Ino - just because he could outrun her  _ now _ didn’t mean he’d be as lucky in two months when she could hand the baby off to Sai. “Not the point,” he said, waving that part away. “You been getting swollen ankles? Hana got those and she did not take it gracefully.” 

Shino gave him an unimpressed look over the top of his glasses. “I am not pregnant. An increase in egg production merely means that the hive is expanding or preparing to-” he paused and then said carefully, “preparing to split.” 

“What, like bees? Is the village going to have to deal with a swarm of chakra eating insects? Because I think I would have noticed if you guys had done that before,” Kiba said. 

Shino didn’t even notice, staring in the direction of the Aburame compound, and Kiba elbowed him in the side. “Come on, it was a joke. Mostly.” 

“No, that was very helpful,” Shino said absently. “I need to talk to my father. Immediately. Why? Because both parents typically contribute to a new hive.” 

Kiba blinked at the empty spot next to him, spitting out leaves. Both- “ _ You jerk! _ What kind of exit line was that!” He scowled at Akamaru, who huffed and started trotting in the direction of the Aburame compound. Well, going the long way would be a good time to pick up a gift for Hinata. “So,” he asked Akumaru, “do you think that  _ Hinata _ knows yet?” 

A sharp bark. “Yeah, probably not. We’ll pick up dinner on the way there.” 


	10. Fugaku/Mikoto/Kushina/Minato - sci-fi

“This is going in my report,” Fugaku said pointedly. Another tremor shook the cavern and several pebbles shook loose, striking the ground near his foot. He shifted, tilting his head back to frown at the trap door fifteen feet above their heads. “Local team leader rushes into obvious trap.”

“As though you weren’t right behind me,” Minato said easily. “Do you think they weighed that down or are just assuming that we won’t be able to reach it?”

Fugaku gave him a sour look. “It’s ROOT, of course they weighed it down. How did you manage to piss off Danzo so much in  _ one visit _ that he keeps trying to murder us!”

“He was crazy, that’s how,” Kushina said, bouncing over, Mikoto following more sedately. “And his utter failure to invade probably didn’t help, what with the loss of fifty men and getting shot. Probably not very endearing”

“I go on  _ one _ long term away mission and you decide to piss off the local extremists!” Fugaku complained. “I was gone for a month! You are never allowed to meet new people without me again.” 

Not that Mei was likely to reassign him again unless she ran short on every last recourse of bureaucratic stalling she could bring to the fore - Atlantis’s civilian commander hadn’t enjoyed the side effects of his absence either from the rumors. Not that that mattered to the  _ other _ military commander on the base - Hizashi Hyuga had definitely divergent ideas about troop assignments and technically outranked Minato, by dint of being promoted six months earlier than the other man. 

Not that Fugaku hadn’t warned their enlisted not to challenge Mikoto’s tribe to armed combat before he’d left, but they were marines - you couldn’t  _ talk  _ sense into some of them. At least the full infirmary should have beaten more wisdom into them about how little the Uchiha’s predilection for long hair on men and being shorter than average American height mattered.

“They tried to keep Kushina and Shikaku to work on weapons for them,” Minato pointed out. “And then they invaded Atlantis, and  _ then _ they tried to kidnap Mei-”

“And then Minato shot him,” Kushina finished cheerfully and Fugaku gave her a narrow eyed look. She was always far, far too happy when violence was mentioned. He blamed that on the rather unfortunate stint she had spent hosting Kurama before they’d figured out how to extract the goa'uld. 

There was a creaking noise as the trapdoor swung open, the sun silhouetting the person standing above them, obscuring their features. 

“Danzo,” Minato said cheerfully, tone designed to irritate people, and Fugaku shot his CO a poisonous look. “Come to drop in?”

“Namikaze.” Danzo rasped. “No, I’ll leave the dropping to you. Where is the power source?”

Fugaku didn’t look at the bag in the corner, lying under a pile of their vests and jackets. Kushina had shoved the bag under her shirt before they’d been tossed in here - apparently Danzo had exhausted the most obvious possibilities. 

“There wasn’t one,” Minato said without missing a beat. “Couldn’t find it, the place had already been looted.” 

Danzo was silent for a moment before gesturing and Fugaku stumbled back, hand flying to his shoulder and fingers coming back wet before he landed on the ground. Kushina was next to him a second later, pressing down on the wound and Fugaku swore viciously because it was better than screaming. 

Heat bloomed and there was a roar of flame from Mikito as a thin stream of fire raced towards the opening, but Danzo had already stepped back. 

“You can do that?” Minato demanded. “Why didn’t you say you could do that?”

“Now is not the time!” Kushina snapped, before looking at him. “It’s a through and through, so at least it’s not still in your shoulder, but this bleeding is not good.” 

“Really,” Fugaku said tersely. “Copious blood loss isn’t good. How did I not realize that?” 

Danzo’s voice drifted down towards them as Mikoto glared up at the trapdoor, a heat haze hovering over her lips. “The power source, Namikaze, and we’ll throw down a first aid kit.” 

Minato grimaced and gave him a faintly apologetic look. “That is not a good way to jog memories! Especially when we  _ don’t have it! _ ” 

“I’ll give you some time to try and remember.” 

The trapdoor dropped closed and Fugaku grimaced as their only light source was reduced to a glowstick. “Next time, just aim for his  _ head _ , Namikaze. Did you have to shoot him in the shoulder?” 

“Well, Mei was in the way,” Minato pointed out. “It seemed like a bad idea to shoot her. Kushina, any thoughts for how to get up there? Mikoto, any more tricks?” 

“Not for this,” Mikoto said shortly, moving to hover over him. “I can get up there, but getting the trap door open is going to be the hard part. He’ll have locked it with an Uchiha in mind and he’ll have left guards.”

Fugaku winced as Kushina wrapped his shoulder - this was only a short term solution. “One of your ridiculous ideas would be appreciated, Minato.” He would prefer to not die in a hole in the ground in a different galaxy. 

“No,” Mikoto said slowly, staring up into the dark towards the trap door. “I have an idea. It will take a moment though, assuming he notices and is able to detour.” 

“Who?” Kushina asked, but she was moving, grabbing their packs, tossing Minato and Mikoto their vests before starting to divide Fugaku’s pack amongst the other three. “I’d give you your vest, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” 

Since the idea of trying to get the vest on over his shoulder was nausea inducing, he wasn’t going to argue. He’d done it before, on other missions, but wounds and twisting were never a good combination. “The power source?” 

“I’ve got it.” Kushina said. “Hopefully it’s not as dead as the ones back home - floating on the surface like a bunch of sitting ducks is getting old. You’d think if the Ancients were going to scatter a bunch of backup batteries, they’d have bothered with decent storage.” 

“It’s been ten thousand years,” Fugaku pointed out with a slight groan as he shifted. “I don’t think they were counting on being gone that long.” 

She snorted. “Poor planning on their part then. And stop moving!” She stomped over with a scowl, poking at his wrappings. “I’m not that good at this - Kurama wasn’t really big on this part of the process.”

The trapdoor opened again and Kushina shifted in front of him, which, “Don’t you dare,” Fugaku said quietly. “That quick healing he gave you isn’t as good now that he’s gone and of the two of us, you’re the one that actually works with the ZPMs.” 

“It’s still better than yours,” Kushina hissed. “And of the four of us,  _ I’m _ the only one that he might not shoot.” 

“Mikoto, how’d you manage this?” An unknown man asked before vanishing again, followed by a ladder being tossed into the pit. “Hurry up, I’d rather not deal with Danzo’s followers in large groups.” 

Mikoto climbed first as Minato and Kushina helped Fugaku up. “Can you make it or are we going to need to make a sling?” 

Fugaku shifted his shoulder, eyed the rope ladder for a moment and then shook his head. “I can make it. It’s not any worse than that Goddamn Ice Planet.” It had an official designation, but for any of the veterans from Earth, it was simply the Goddamn Ice Planet, no other explanation required. They’d lost three entire teams on that mission and four others had been out of commission for months while their members recovered - if they could even get back to active duty. 

Kushina nodded grimly, Minato looked curious but didn’t ask. “Kushina in front of you then and I’ll be behind, in case you need steadying.” 

Kushina was up the ladder quickly, Fugaku just behind her - climbing up a ladder one handed wasn’t hard, if painful, but it was when Kushina grabbed his shirt and hauled him over the last section that it  _ really _ started to hurt. “I hate you,” he said casually, staring at the sun before rolling over and pushing to his feet. “If you’re going to be doing that I deserve painkillers.” 

“You love me,” Kushina dismissed as Minato exited. “And no painkillers until we hit the gate, I’ve read your medical file.” 

Fugaku ignored her valid point to get a look at their rescuer - he was albino and of average  _ American _ height, which was unusual compared to the rest of the Pegasus natives, and Fugaku noted the braided hair necklace in the same shade as Mikoto’s own hair. He hadn’t noticed any of the Uchiha sporting a braid in that particular shade of white, but he didn’t spend much time staring at the various commitment braids that they had. It did explain her confidence that he’d help them though. 

“Tobirama,” Mikoto clasped his forearm before stepping back. “We’ve been looking for you.” She turned, “This is my Fugaku and our new allies - Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki. We have relocated to stay with their people for the time being, given the sudden awakening of Wraith.” 

Tobirama nodded tersely. “We should go, Danzo didn’t move far and we’ll be slowed down.” 

Minato nodded, scanning the area before turning. “Fugaku?” 

“I can run,” Fugaku said. “We’ll need to tell Mei if we’re bringing back a guest.” He glanced at Tobirama. 

“I’ll be coming back,” Tobirama confirmed. “I need a rest.” 

There was a shout in the distance and Minato nudged Fugaku forward. “And now it’s time to go. I’ll deal with Danzo later.” 

Well, Fugaku thought, eyeing the glint in Mikoto’s eyes,  _ someone _ was going to anyway.


	11. Tobirama/Izuna - university

“Is that a crying clown statue?” Koharu asked, leaning over into Hiruzen’s space so she could get a better look at the picture. “An actual crying clown. Where did Professor Uchiha even  _ find _ that?” 

Hiruzen passed the phone over to Kagami and ran a hand through his hair. “I have  _ no _ idea. But he screwed it to the desk. We had to call maintenance because he used a torque wrench to attach it. They needed a  _ power tool _ to remove it.” 

Danzo paused in eating his ramen to lean over and look at the clown, swallowing the noodles before asking, “What did Professor Senju do this time? And when did Professor Uchiha have the time - I thought your whole family went to see your Japanese relatives for the holidays,” he added, looking over at Kagami. 

“We did.” Kagami was staring at the statue with no small degree of fascination. “We all took the same flight back even, so I mean - maybe he came in early?” 

They all gave him the skeptical glance that deserved - Izuna Uchiha did not  _ do _ early. If he had to teach a class before noon, there was a sixty percent fail rate. Biwako had done  _ tables _ \- apparently the best time for maximum chance of passing was a class between noon and three in the afternoon, unless you took a Monday/Wednesday class, when his kids got out of their school group early. 

“I think it’s sweet that he brings Professor Senju souvenirs. No one else gets them,” Biwako said primly. “It’s very thoughtful.” 

Hiruzen eyed his girlfriend suspiciously - she was Professor Uchiha’s TA. They’d left for their classes at the same time this morning, but she’d also gotten home late last night. “Right. Well, that thoughtful gift means there’s a hole in the desk and apparently there aren’t any spare desks either.” Which was  _ also _ suspicious, but Biwako didn’t know anyone in furniture allocation. 

“What’s the betting pool now?” Torifu asked, offering Hiruzen half of his sandwich, which he took gratefully - the culinary major could do things with sandwiches to make a grown man cry. “Because there’s no way that the art and architecture schools don’t all know about this by now.” 

“Thirty percent of the two schools think that they’re  _ actually _ sleeping together and trying to throw everyone off,” Homura said, shoving his glasses up his nose and opening his laptop and- oh god. That was a  _ spreadsheet _ . 

“Fifteen percent think that Professor Senju is going to set Professor Uchiha’s studio on fire in retaliation - idiots -,” Homura was going to die if either of the two found out about this. Hiruzen could see it now. He’d have to hide the body. Kagami was listening with no small amount of amusement. 

“Twenty-five percent think that we’re going to hear about one or the other of them disappearing under mysterious circumstances depending on what Professor Senju does in retaliation.” Alright, that one was at least plausible.

“Ten percent have no opinion whatsoever.” Wise of them, really. “Five percent think that it’s very nice that history Professor Uchiha is so understanding about open relationships - also idiots -.” 

How did he even  _ have _ this information? Hiruzen would have noticed if Homura was meandering through the various schools, looking for opinions on his professor’s  _ love life _ . Probably. Things always got blurry around finals. 

“Ten percent have bets that they’ll actually start sleeping together and where and when they’ll consummate the relationship,” Hiruzen whimpered as Homura continued, opening a  _ subtable _ .  _ Why? _ Why would he have that? “The current popular money is sometime before the end of this semester and in Professor Senju’s office, mostly because Professor Uchiha’s studio has too many glass and metal shavings for comfort.” 

Biwako leaned over to get a closer look at the table as Danzo pointedly opened his statistic book and buried his nose in it. “Is it ethical for you to be the bookie for this particular betting ring?” 

Homura shoved his glasses up. “I get a forty percent cut of the money involved, no matter the outcome and one hundred percent of any money that comes from failed bets. Book prices went up again this semester. I got fifteen hundred dollars because a bunch of gullible freshmen thought they’d do it in the library during finals week.” 

Torifu choked on his sandwich as Koharu asked, looking more interested, “That’s  _ just _ from the art and architecture programs?” 

“What? No, for the past three years Professor Tobirama’s curious cabinet of art objects is listed as a campus thing for freshmen to see. Shisui added it in right before he graduated,” Homura said, sounding vaguely disapproving. “I think he thought it would be funny.” 

“The  _ library?” _ Kagami looked delighted with this new information. “Did they have a specific section?” 

Another table appeared. Hiruzen was going to have to transfer if Professor Senju ever found he knew about this and didn’t tell him. Homura frowned at the screen. “The art and architecture section, because they have no imagination.” 

Kagami coughed. “Well, I mean, they were  _ half _ right.” 

Danzo snapped his book shut, ears turning red. “We did not need to know that!” Hiruzen sank down as several other tables looked their direction as Danzo’s voice carried across the food court. 

“There’s no need to be crude,” Biwako frowned at Kagami. “And you don’t need to be spreading the professors’ business around. That’s their private affairs.” 

Torifu stared at her. “They were having sex in the campus library. The only way that would be  _ less _ private is if they decided to do it in the Commons.” 

There was a slight cough from Homura. “Three to one odds during spirit week.” 

“I hate you,” Danzo said with feeling. “I do not need to know this. I want to study my stats without needing to have this as an association.” He scowled at them. “Can we talk about something else now?” 

“Well, there’s the fact that Professor Senju is already plotting how to retaliate for the statue. He was fine until he saw the size of the screw and the subsequent hole in his desk.” Professor Senju had gone very, very quiet and stared at the hole for several minutes before vanishing. “I’m going to be involved somehow, I know it, and then I’m going to fail every humanities course I take between now and graduation.” 

Kagami patted his shoulder. “There, there. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Izuna can’t possibly talk  _ every _ humanities professor into failing you. He called Professor Mu a bloated windbag with no worthwhile opinions just last week, so you’re sure to pass Anthropology of Human Nature .” 

“Thank you Kagami. You are a font of comforting information,” Hiruzen said morosely. He wasn’t going to survive another two semesters of this. 

Although, if everything else failed, he could always distract them with Homura. 


	12. Gekkō Hayate/Uzuki Yūgao - sickfic

“Do you think this will help?” Yūgao asked, rubbing Hayate’s back as they waited for the new doctor to finish looking at his scans. There was nothing that anyone could do, the weakness in his lungs having been there since the Third War, but he was always looking for ways to mitigate it. 

Hayate shrugged. “It can’t hurt anyway.” He sounded resigned and Yūgao bit her lip, leaning against him. It was as much comfort as he would accept, when they came in for the doctors to examine him. He was one of the last survivors that had been hit with some of Iwa’s nastier chemicals and they wanted to know the long term effects. 

Fingers tangled with hers and Hayate gave her a small smile. “It can only help, how about that?” he asked instead, and he was trying. “It’s fine. I’m still one of the best kenjutsu masters in Konoha, I have good students and I’ve got a respected position. I don’t need to be able to take outside missions.”

“But you want to,”she said quietly. She knew that he’d stand in front of the mission board sometimes, picking out the ones that would be perfect for him or a small team. It was in the way that he’d break down the missions she could talk about, when they were over, and the way that he’d help her work out possibly plans before she left. 

The smile was more rueful now. “I want a lot of things,” he pointed out. “But what I have isn’t so bad. I got you, didn’t I?” 

_ Sap _ . She elbowed him gently. “That is  _ corny _ ,” she accused, but she was laughing. “ _ Terrible _ . What would Genma say?” 

Hayate grinned smugly. “Since I have the prettiest woman in Konoha waiting here with me and he’s struck out for the past four months, he doesn’t get to say anything.”

Yūgao blushed at the compliment before focusing, “Four entire months?” Two nurses walked by, speaking softly, but they weren’t heading in the direction of the doctor’s office and could be ignored. 

“That’s what happens when you piss off Anko and Kurenai,” Hayate said with a casual shrug. “And none of the three are talking, so I don’t have any idea what he did.” He paused, “And he’s not nearly as suave as he thinks he is, which I’m  _ sure  _ isn’t connected to Kurenai and Anko being mad.”

Well, Yūgao could figure that out - all it would take would be a trip to one of the higher quality liquor stores and some good sushi and Kurenai was hers. “No, not at all,” she agreed solemnly, exhaling as Hayate relaxed as much as he ever did while they were in the hospital. “I have a mission next week.” 

It was good being friends with the ANBU mission coordinator - she got almost three days more warning than anyone else and could get things in order. 

“Alright, let me know how long you’ll be, if you can.” 

Hayate’s fingers squeezed hers before his hand dropped away as a doctor approached them. “Gekkō Hayate? We can discuss your test results in my office.” 

He stood and Yūgao settled in to wait, but he tugged her to her feet. “Come with me. I want you to be there too.” 

It was the first time that he’d asked that. “Of course,” she said quietly. “Whenever you want.” 

They’d deal with whatever the doctor said together. Just like they had everything else. 


	13. Kakashi/Obito/Shizune - weather, seasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also my entry for shinobi summerfest. I wasn't sure if I could use it for both, but since this isn't a combination you see that often, I decided that it counted.

“Ugh.” Obito groaned and fell backwards into the lush grass, the soft plants cushioning his landing and wishing that he’d bothered to learn some fūton jutsus at some point. Southern Tea Country was  _ hot _ and sticky at the height of summer, even compared to what it was in Konoha. “Hey, Hatake, give us a breeze.” 

“Discomfort is only in your mind,” the eleven-year-old informed him loftily from his perch in one of the mangrove trees, the smallest of his dogs sprawled over his lap as the other three lay in a heap at the foot of the tree. Occasionally an ear twitched, disturbing a fly, but other than that they didn’t move. Not that he blamed them - any sort of movement didn’t seem worth it. Obito glared at him with his one good eye and turned to Shizune in mute appeal. She sighed and her fingers flashed through hand signs, but a small breeze started circulating the air. 

It was still hot, but at least there was air movement. He sighed, fingers brushing over the eyepatch that covered the ruin that was what was left of his eye. It could have been worse. If Kakashi’s dogs hadn’t found him, he’d have been dead, but even six months later he was still recovering and Lady Tsunade had moved them as far from the war front as possible. 

“Where is Lady Tsunade?” he asked suddenly. When he’d woken up at dawn, she’d been gone already. Neither of his companions had seemed too worried about it, going about their usual morning routine before leaving the small village that they’d been staying at, but it was nearly the middle of the afternoon and she hadn’t reappeared. “Are we meeting her somewhere?” 

“Aunt Tsunade will find us,” Kakashi said, peering over the edge of the tree branch to look down at him. “We’re not in a hurry, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

_ They _ might not be, but Obito was chomping at the bit to make it back to Konoha. The fighting might have started dying down, thanks to the bridge mission and Minato-sensei wiping out an entire battalion on his own. But there still was fighting and it was his family and friends out there dying. And what about Rin and Kurenai? They had both been there, at the end, and he had no idea what had happened to them. 

“I need to get home!” he protested. “I appreciate that you saved my life, but they need me back there, not running around Tea Country during the middle of summer!” 

“And do what?” Kakashi asked, frowning. “Your arm hasn’t even recovered to a tenth of what it should be and your leg isn’t much better. And Aunt Tsunade certainly isn’t going to stay in Konoha to treat you.” 

Obitio didn’t know the history there, not really, but he couldn’t imagine anyone just  _ walking away _ from Konoha. She didn’t even check in with any of their outposts, as far as Obito could tell. He couldn’t believe that the Hokage  _ let  _ her. How many people could she have saved, if she’d been home doing her duty?

But that wasn’t an argument he was going to have with either of the other two. Shizune had been with Lady Tsunade for almost five years now and Kakashi had been nearly as long - Obitio could even remember when he’d gone missing from the village. It hadn’t been a big thing - Hatake Sakumo was still a pretty reviled name in a lot of circles, his family’s included - but when the last member of a clan with connections to a foreign power and a summons contract went missing, it had been talked about. 

Either way, they were both way more loyal to Lady Tsunade than Konoha.

“Well, I at least need to let them know I’m  _ alive _ ,” he said, pushing himself into a reclining position. “My grandmother-” 

Shizune and Kakashi exchanged glances before Shizune said reluctantly, “There’s a way station a half day north. We can send a missive there, just so they know.” 

There was that - he knew the clan wouldn’t have been happy that they couldn’t find his body and if this went on too long, it could be considered desertion. And he wasn’t the best healer or shinobi the village had - he was a chunin nobody, no one was going to let that slide, when they needed bodies more than ever. But they’d be able to trace the missive back and could come get him. Fugaku and Mikoto wouldn’t let him wander around Tea, they’d send a squad to get him, even if the village wouldn’t. 

His arm trembled and then collapsed, dropping him back to the ground with a yelp. Shizune snapped the book shut and hurried over as Kakashi dropped out the tree, eyes widening. 

“Let me see,” Shizune said, kneeling next to him and examining the arm carefully and sending healing chakra through it. “Have you been doing the exercises that we told you to?” 

Obito didn’t yank his arm away, but did roll his eyes. “Of course I did, I know the importance of physical therapy.” 

It was only something that was covered every year in the academy and at home with the trainers that went over clan specialities - a shinobi that didn’t take care of themselves was a dead shinobi. And with the way that he should have been dead, he was going to be lucky to still be considered an active shinobi. His leg, at least, was never going to be strong enough for fieldwork. 

Kakashi scoffed at that, but didn’t say anything else as his dogs finally decided to rouse themselves and meandered over, sticking their noses into Obito and Shizune’s faces before vanishing into the grass and trees. 

“We’ll start moving again,” Shizune said after a moment. “We don’t want to be caught on the road after dark anyway.” 

Not with the rumors of bandits that Obito had caught at the last inn they’d stopped at. It probably wasn’t anything they needed to worry about, but Kakashi and Shizune were both healers first and defense fighters second and he was a cripple. Not exactly the most threatening group. 

She hauled him to his feet, giving him the cane he needed when they were walking any great distance, and they started off. 

It took a half hour for Obito to wish that he was still in the medically induced coma that Lady Tsunade had kept him in for the first three weeks of his recovery. At least then he wouldn’t  _ know _ he was dying of heatstroke. The moisture in the air made the fabric cling and just  _ standing _ was enough to make him sweat. The other two weren’t any better, Shizune red faced, Kakashi grimly trudging forward with his eyes fixed on where the road vanished on the horizon. 

Shizune spotted it first. “There,” she tugged his sleeve, gripping Kakashi’s shoulder and spinning him to the left, where the bare hint of a roof poked over the mangroves that lined the path on either side. “We’re stopping there for the night.” 

There, once they fought through the trees, turned out to be a modest, one story house on the edge of a small lake. A boat was moored to a dock and Obito slowed, studying it suspiciously. This was a pretty out of the way location, unless the lake backed into a swamp on the other side, which was possible. He didn’t know that much about them - for all its humidity and heat, Fire Country didn’t have much in the way of swamps or standing bodies of water. Just lots and lots of rivers. 

Shizune knocked on the door, the three of them listening for any sign of habitation, but there wasn’t any, so Kakashi was the one that jimmied open a window and slipped inside, unlocking the door for them. It was  _ cool _ . Obito blinked and glanced around. 

“Seals,” Shizune muttered and Obito flicked on the sharingan, trying to see if anything stood out. There were a couple of spots, but he couldn’t swear to it. Mostly because he had no idea what he was doing - there wasn’t really any way to get a practical lesson beforehand and most of the time, clan that had newly activated sharingan were given a mentor and took a month to just learn all the tricks of their eyes. 

He’d been learning it on his own and didn’t want to think about what sort of bad habits that he might have accidentally picked up. “So are we leaving or-?” 

“We’ll stay,” Shizune decided. “Just for tonight. We have the dogs and some seals. We’ll be fine and in the morning, Kakashi can run your note to the waystation, if you want.”

Obito nodded. “Yeah. I can write it up tonight.” Luckily, neither of them were going to know the family codes that he could hide in the letter. He was going to go  _ home _ . 


	14. Ebisu/Asuma - free space

“Excuse me, Ebisu-sensei, if you have a minute I need to speak to you.” 

He didn’t - the amount of jonin that were currently deployed outside the village meant that everyone else was picking up the slack - but he turned anyway. The Sarutobi’s housekeeper wouldn’t have sought him out without reason, the elderly woman disliking having to leave her domain for trivial reasons. “Miyu. If this is about Konohamaru’s lessons, I will meet with Asuma to work out a schedule as soon as possible.” 

The woman looked troubled. “Not entirely, but that is part of it. This is not the best place to discuss it.” 

No, the middle of the market wasn’t the best place to talk about whatever the woman had on her mind. The hokage wasn’t even three weeks dead, no reason to give the gossips anything to work with. He wished he could say that the village was focused on more important things - like recovering from an invasion - but the gossip never died down. 

Ebisu followed her over to small tea room and let her pick the location, relaxing as she went through the familiar routine of preparing them cups of tea. Apparently he’d needed the small break, even if the topic wasn’t going to be pleasant. 

“I’ve worked for the Sarutobi family for many, many years, you know this,” Miyu said, after they’d both finished their first cup. “So I do not enjoy going to you about family troubles. But the workers and the accounts must be paid and there isn’t anyone to authorize it.” Her expression was worried. “And young Konohamaru is alone in the house, if you could perhaps speak to Asuma when he is next in the village?” 

He carefully set down the teacup. “He hasn’t been by the house.” He didn’t know Asuma’s entire issues with his father, though the very public blow up right before he’d relocated to the capital had been one of the prime pieces of gossip for months after it had happened. But he would have thought that the man would have set that aside enough to at least check on his nephew. “I’ll be by this evening then. I believe I recall the name of the solicitor that the family employs.”

And the man knew him well enough from Ebisu bringing Konohamaru by for educational purposes that he might be willing to open the accounts for household use if Ebisu promised to haul Asuma in front of him at the earliest opportunity. 

“Can you keep the staff there for a few more days?” he asked. He didn’t know the entire composition of the house, that was Miyu’s job, but he was sympathetic to the fact that they needed to feed their own families.

She sniffed. “Of course. They will stay if they want recommendations to other positions, especially now that I know that someone taller than I am is paying attention.”

Good. That gave him some time. And if he couldn’t manage it on his own, there was always Gai. 

“Ebisu-sensei!” Konohamaru slammed into him before hastily skipping back, jutting his chin out and crossing his arms. “You didn’t come see me.” 

Ebisu didn’t sigh, pushing his glasses up his nose - he needed to get those adjusted - before dropping a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Things have been busy, but I should have found a minute while you were awake. I do trust you’ve been getting my notes and following them?”

“Yeah,” the affirmation was reluctant. “Miyu made me.” Well, sooner or later he’d manage to pound a love of learning into the boy’s skull. But the last few weeks had been hard enough - Ebisu hadn’t seriously expecting him to manage everything that’d he’d assigned him. “Ebisu-sensei, what’s going to happen now?”

“We’re going to see your uncle.” Three weeks was two weeks longer than Asuma should have left this. “I have it on good authority that he’s in town for the next twenty-four hours.” He now owed Genma a new set of those hollow senbon that he liked, but Ebisu knew Asuma’s every move. It was probably going to be worth it. 

“Oh.” Konohamaru scowled. “What’s he got to do with anything?” 

Ebisu frowned slightly. “He is your uncle and the head of the family now. He has a great deal to do with your living arrangements.” 

Konohamaru looked skeptical. “Why? He doesn’t care! If he did he’d be here!” His fists clenched. “He wasn’t even at the funeral!” 

“Yes he was,” Ebisu said calmly, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. Asuma had many deficiencies, but that had not been one of them. “And he  _ will _ be stepping up to his responsibilities towards you, though you may have to go and live with him.” That didn’t appear to appease him, but there wasn’t anything that Ebisu could do about that. “I will remain your tutor, so you will not be allowed to neglect your studies. You come from a distinguished lineage, I will not allow you to slack off. How else will you become the Hokage?”

That got him a hesitant grin, followed by a firmer nod. “Right! I’m gonna be the Hokage! Like Naruto” 

If the gods were feeling unkind, Ebisu would have to deal with the loud, yellow-haired brat for a leader. “Indeed. Perhaps the Sixth.”  _ His _ charge wouldn’t summon genjutsus of the worst disaster that Konoha had had in its entire history. “But, we are going to find your uncle first.” 

The walk through the village was quiet, Konohamaru dragging his feet, as they made their way to one of the less affluent neighborhoods. It wasn’t the worst, by any means, but it wasn’t anywhere near what Ebisu considered appropriate for raising a child. Appropriate for a bachelor, but not for a family. 

Asuma’s apartment was a third floor walk up and Ebisu already knew that it was too small for two people. Decently painted, exterior clean, so there was that at least. Konohamaru pressed against him as he knocked firmly on the door. There was a startled noise and then a muffled curse from inside before the sounds of movement filtered out. The man hadn’t bothered with privacy seals then. 

Ebisu barely refrained from wrinkling his nose as the stench of cigarette smoke greeted him as Asuma pulled the door open. “Can I help you? This is the first day off I’ve had in a week and a half.” 

“We need to talk about your nephew.” Ebisu gently pushed Konohamaru forward and Asuma’s eyes widened. “Konohamaru, this is your uncle, Asuma.” 

“Right.” Asuma ran a hand through his hair. “Come on in.” 

Ebisu followed the man into the apartment, raising an eyebrow as he took in the messy one room apartment as Asuma shuffled over to the kitchen and started rummaging through his kitchen, distractedly lighting a cigarette as he did. That was definitely going to change. 

“Ebisu-sensei, do I have to live here?” Konohamaru asked into the silence. “His apartment is smaller than Naruto’s.”

Asuma stared at the boy. “Live here?” He took a drag of the cigarette and turned towards Ebisu. “Isn’t he staying with someone already?” 

Konohamaru looked stricken and Ebisu took over before the boy exploded. “No. The household accounts also need to be looked at for your parents’ house, which is where Konohamaru has been staying.” He gave the pile of laundry a narrow eyed look. “And will be continuing to stay. This is not a good environment for a growing child. You should probably move in as well.” 

“I am  _ not _ moving-” Asuma started, but Ebisu had managed to get his current position because he’d acted as though everything was going to happen the way he wanted to. 

“It will give you less stress in between missions if you don’t have to worry about the more menial chores,” he said, talking over Asuma as Konohamaru watched with growing interest. “And you’ll save the money you’re wasting on this place. And you can’t bring Kurenai back here, she’ll never give you another chance-.” He kept going, talking over and around Asuma until the man was reluctantly walking back with them to the Sarutobi’s house. 

Ebisu was pleased. He’d need to keep an eye on this of course, because Asuma dealt with things he disliked by avoiding them, but physically relocating him to where he couldn’t ignore the problem of his nephew was a good start. It was a good thing he’d agreed though - Genma was already talking the landlord into breaking the lease. He coughed as a puff of cigarette smoke wafted in his face. 

That was going to have to go. Immediately. 


	15. Itama/Izuna - enemies to friends to lovers

This was not… what he’d been expecting.    
  
Itama poked the pot, frowning at it as though it would morph into something else - or better yet, vanish entirely - if he stared at it long enough. But the plant remained stubbornly the same. He should have refused to take it or thrown it out as soon as Izuna had handed it to him, but Hashirama had been  _ right there _ and Itama wasn’t going to deal with Hashirama’s dramatics. 

That was Tobirama’s job. 

It still didn’t explain  _ why _ Izuna was persisting in continuing their awkward interactions - of all of the Uchiha, Itama had picked him for Hashirama’s dumb socializing idea because he hated Senju almost as much as Itama hated the Uchiha. But three months later, Izuna was  _ still here _ and had graduated from talking to giving gifts. It was vaguely insufferable how  _ smug _ Hashirama was acting about it. 

…. It was a nice looking plant and it wasn’t as though  it wasn’t going to be useful.

Itama sighed and picked it up, carrying it to the back to the greenhouse that his brothers had made for him. Maybe if he gave Izuna one of his less robust poisons the other man would leave him alone. If that was Izuna’s game, Itama could tolerate that - it made more sense than any other reason, unless Izuna was doing it in an attempt to mess with Tobirama, which was also an option. 

He spent the next few days checking on his plants and the few animals he used - he preferred plants, but sometimes the combination of poisons and venoms was too good to pass up or someone needed a certain type of venom. Besides, no one bothered him when he was working with the snakes and the snakes didn’t talk over him. 

“Go tell Uchiha you liked his plant,” Tobirama told him irritably as he hauled him out of the greenhouse, still clutching the chain viper. Itama blinked - Tobirama hadn’t pressed him about attempting to make friends with anyone, just told him to make a minimal effort, so this was a change of pace. His brother clarified, “He keeps bugging  _ me _ about it and we have work to do, so go appease him so he’ll do his job and leave me alone.”

That made far more sense and Tobirama was between him and the greenhouse, so Itama grabbed his slate and wrapped the snake around his shoulders - he couldn’t just let her loose, even if she was still calm from both being fed and milked. “Stop that,” he rasped softly as she attempted to crawl in his collar. “It’s not that cold.” The ache in his throat was worth her calming down - his snakes didn’t care how softly he talked or how little. And it was amazing how many people gave him several feet of room with a five and a half foot snake curled around his shoulders. 

_ Your plant is nice but immature and if you wanted a poison you’re going to need to wait until next year _ . Itama informed Izuna once he’d tracked him down. It hadn’t been hard, precisely, but he’d spent the morning walking around the market that was slowly growing as merchants realized their wares wouldn’t be caught in the middle of a Senju and Uchiha brawl because Itama was  _ not _ going to actually go into the Uchiha compound. The feeling of being surrounded was only tolerable out here because there were other Senju around. 

Izuna read the slate before eyeing the snake for a second. “It was a gift, but if you’re offering I won’t say no.” 

Itama snorted, because he doubted that Izuna had done it out of the goodness of his heart - it didn’t fit with everything else he’d heard about him and shinobi didn’t do anything out for free. Not for him. Especially not shinobi that weren’t his brothers.  _ Your generosity without expectations is a credit to your clan, I’m sure.  _ But since Izuna was hardly the only one that gave him plants with the expectation of getting something out of it, Itama wasn’t going to waste the energy to be outraged over it. 

His snake shifted and Itama caught her before she started heading for the ground - she wasn’t a summons, but all his snakes were curious things and he didn’t want to have her be killed by a panicking shinobi or civilian - thrusting the slate at Izuna so he could adjust her with both hands. He took the slate back as quickly as he could, having half expected Izuna to have dropped it.  _ Did you want to hold her? _

She wasn’t going to bite as long as Itama was the one handing her off. And even if she did, Izuna would be fine - it took her about twelve hours to refill her venom sacs. 

“If you’re offering,” Izuna said after a second. Itama watched him carefully as he handled the snake, but he was gentle with her and was watching Itama’s reactions as he held her. Smart of him and Itama took her back after a few minutes. 

_ She likes you _ . But that was as much of Uchiha socializing as Itama was willing to do for the day, and possibly the week, and Hashirama would be so happy that Itama was ‘sharing his interests’ that he’d possibly let him hide in his greenhouse in peace. Or maybe Himawari would let him hide in the infirmary - she was the one person that Hashirama didn’t pressure to do things, including meet with Uchiha. 

Izuna paused and there was that calculating look that Itama did  _ not _ like. “So how many snakes do you have?” 

_ A few _ , he said reluctantly, since Izuna could probably work that out for himself or just ask Hashirama about it, since his brother would be  _ so happy _ to talk about Itama’s interests, never mind that Izuna very clearly was about as happy with this as Itama was or that Itama would rather  _ not _ have his interests talked about. 

“I don’t suppose I could see them, if they’re as friendly as this one.” And there it was. But the greenhouse was  _ Itama’s _ and he was not going to let an Uchiha into his sanctuary. At least Tobirama would back him up on that, on the grounds that Izuna was a security risk of the highest order, even if they were supposedly friendly now. 

_ They’re as friendly as you are _ , he said.  _ So probably not a good idea. _ Which was true - if he wasn’t there, his snakes were as aggressive as they were naturally. And Izuna getting bit by some of his more dangerous snakes wouldn’t do a lot for inter clan relations. Good, a reasoning that Hashirama couldn’t argue against.

Izuna raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject, letting Itama retreat. Now, hopefully he’d have a few weeks peace before he had to do it again.


	16. Itama/Tobirama - body swap

“Mooooom!” Itama howled, blinking down at his _legs_ , before squeaking. “Mooom, Tobirama fucked up!”

There was a sudden clatter from the kitchen before Mom appeared in the doorway, Kawarama sticking his head around the doorframe to stare at him. “What happened?” 

“I have _legs_ ,” he was almost wailing, but he had had a tail when he went to _sleep!_ He wiggled and swung his legs like he’d seen his brothers do when they sat up and nearly fell off the bed. Kawarama darted forward and yelped as he tried to catch him, both of them hitting the ground. Itama grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled himself up, snarling, “I’m going to fucking _bite him_.” 

“Wait, why does he get to say fuck?” Kawarama demanded, which was _not the thing to be focused on_. There was a loud crash from further away as his younger brother added dubiously, “I don’t think you have fangs anymore.”

Mom helped him to his feet, giving him something to cling to while he tried walking and decided he _hated it_. “No cursing,” she said absently. “Kawarama, go find your father while we see what happened to Tobirama.” 

“He gave me _legs_ , that’s what happened to Tobirama,” Itama snapped, not liking this. He didn’t like this _at all_. “And I want my tail back!” He didn’t even have his _wings_. How was he supposed to swim like this? It was bad enough being a Lamia this far from the ocean, but now his brother had to make this _harder?_

“That’s not _quite_ what happened, dear,” Mom said as Kawarama vanished. She pulled at a mirror and Itama stared at…his brother’s face. 

Itama blinked, taking in the pale skin and red eyes. “I can’t go _outside!_ ” That was _it_. “I’m turning him into a _frog!”_ He didn’t know that spell yet, but he _would_. 

Mom ushered him down the stairs, which were death traps and he had the entirely wrong center of gravity and he couldn’t tell where anything was because Tobirama’s stupid body couldn’t sense vibrations. There were bright spots _everywhere_ though, distracting him because he could feel them but couldn’t see them. Mom was a bright spot and there were smaller spots scattered through the house, and the vague sort of whisper-knowing that was telling him _what_ everything was. 

They made it to Itama’s room with minimal incidents, though there was one vase casualty. “What are you doing?” Itama shrieked as soon as they opened the door. “Stop moving, you’re going to get _tangled!_ ” And that led to cramps and strained muscles and _it hurt_. 

Tobirama stopped moving, scowling down at the coils before scowling at Itama like this was _his_ fault. “Well? How do you _move?”_

….It was _really_ weird to watch himself scowling. 

“I could figure out your dumb body,” more or less, “you should be fine. Or you can just not move until we switch back.” There was a second of silence and Itama narrowed his eyes. “We _are_ going to switch back right?” 

“Which spell were you _trying_ to cast?” Mom asked, gently squeezing Itama’s shoulder before he could say anything else. “That might help us figure out what went wrong.” 

Tobirama shifted, crossing his arms defensively, body shifting as he did. “I was _trying_ an astral projection spell to see if I can adapt one to use for spying through animals. I was _supposed_ to wind up in the cat's body. ”

“And you just so happened to kick me out of _mine?”_ Itama hissed, gripping the door frame to keep from lunging at his brother. “And you _have_ a familiar, just use them for spying!”

“She doesn’t comprehend human numbers or camp layouts,” Tobirama snapped. “And the army keeps moving troops through here.”

Itama could admit he could see _why_ Tobirama might want the spell - it wasn’t as though any of them would fair well if their home was discovered and Dad had already shredded a conscription notice. But, “And you didn’t think to ask Mom for help! This wouldn’t have happened if Mom had been involved.”

“That’s not necessarily true, though your faith in me is touching,” Mom said dryly. “Tobirama, what is your best guess for the length of the spell?”

“…Three days at the outside,” Tobirama said after a few seconds, adding when Mom frowned at him, “It should be shorter though. Closer to two days.”

“ _Days?”_ Itama’s voice rose. “I have to be stuck like this for _days?_ ”

“You’re not the only one stuck like this,” Tobirama snapped, crossing his arms and scowling as his tail twisted. “How do you even move?”

Itama bared his teeth. “I’m the one that didn’t get asked!” 

“Enough.” Mom touched his shoulder. “This was an accident and one that we’ll work on not repeating. Your brother didn’t mean to do this and it’s not permanent.” She gave Tobirama a stern look. “That being said, we will be having a talk about experimenting in the family’s living quarters. You know better.”

Tobirama nodded, grimacing as he said, “I didn’t expect the spell to go _this_ awry. I apologize for that.”

Itama was only _slightly_ mollified by the apology, but Mom was watching so he muttered, “It’s fine.”

It was not fine. 

\-------  


“This _sucks_.” 

Tobirama winced as his youngest brother’s weight landed right on a bit of coiled tail and Kawarama scrambled over him, settling down next to his torso with the ease of long familiarity. And his brother tended to run hot, the warmth sinking into Tobirama’s body and helping make him comfortable for the first time since the disastrous spell attempt. 

Kawarama stretched out, tail flicking as he stared at Tobirama, silver eyes blinking up at him. "I bet you'd be warmer if you went to Itama's basking pool."

“I don’t need to,” Tobirama said firmly. “I have heating spells and blankets.” And it was habit to avoid the sunniest parts of the day so that he didn’t burn. It didn’t matter if this was a new body, being outside at noon was always associated with pain. Besides, he was not dealing with bright lights on top of the headache that he was nursing because Itama could feel every time something in the house so much as shifted. 

“Your loss,” Kawarama said, eyes half lidded before he frowned. “Are you feeling ok? I can do a healing spell if you want, since Mom went to go get Hashirama and his friends.” 

He considered refusing because _he_ should be able to handle healing spells, but there were enough differences in how Itama’s native magic functioned to his that he wasn’t going to try casting a spell on himself. And he was going to take care of Itama’s body, which meant suffering the indignity of relying on other people to cast spells for the moment. “Please.” 

His youngest brother beamed at him before rolling over so that he could cast the spell properly. It was one of the things that Mom had insisted on, that all of them be nearly as well versed in healing spells as Dad. And he could almost be considered a Cleric, if he’d bothered to formally attach himself to one god. It was one of Mom’s many insistances, like that they all know ranged and close quarters weapons or that none of them have the exact same skill set. 

Tobirama relaxed as the throbbing in his head subsided. “Could you cast Silence for a bit?” he asked. Having that _quiet_ would be worth not being able to detect anyone sneaking up on them. Dad was home or at least in the area and Kawarama was good enough, if still adjusting to his new height, to hold off an intruder until he or Itama could get there.

Just as Kawarama opened his mouth, the front door flew open, hitting the wall and rebounding off it, sending vibrations through the house and bringing the headache roaring back. “I’m going to kill him,” Tobirama said calmly, forcing himself to adjust positions and start moving so that he could greet his older brother. “Murder him and hide the body.” How did Itama put up with this? 

He cocked his head to the side, registering that there was more than one person in the foyer. Hashirama, obviously, and Mom, but the other two - there was a low rumble that sounded almost familiar and another woman. It was annoying, that the voices were _off ,_ Itama processing sounds differently enough that nothing sounded familiar. The man’s voice was pleasant, vibrating against scales and skin, and Tobirama shifted closer, wanting to both identify the voice’s owner and have the rumble more encompassing. 

Madara. _Of course_ it was Madara - who else would Hashirama have brought back? It wasn’t as though any of them had many other acquaintances and Madara’s clan had several libraries worth of tomes and spellbooks. Tobirama debated for a split second going back into Itama’s room and staying there, but he was going to be equally embarrassed either way and better to get it over with quickly. 

He came into the front room, schooling his expression into blankness to hide the embarrassment, just as Itama gingerly picked his way down the stairs and shot him a glare as he made it to the bottom. 

Hashirama glanced between the two of them, opened his mouth, and snapped it shut when they both glared at him. 

“This is a first,” Mito said, tilting her head to the side as she studied them. “Your ability to get into the most fascinating situations is shared with your siblings, I see.” 

Their older brother gave her a wounded look. “You’re right there with me! And half of those are Madara’s fault!” 

There was a grunt of disagreement from Madara as he stooped slightly to move around the room, glancing at Tobirama, his own scales scraping lightly against wood - the house wasn't made for dragonborn. “At least there’s no confusion as to who’s who. And the last time I went on a trip and you weren’t there, it was completely normal. No complications whatsoever.”

“Can you fix this?” Itama demanded. “I want my body back! Stupid mammals,” he grumbled before giving Tobirama a considering look that Tobirama didn’t like and asking, “ _Why_ does your stupid body have exterior genitals that seem to react to stupid things like _voices_?” 

Tobirama froze for a split second - because why had he used _voices_ in particular - but that was one second too long, because his brother had clearly caught the hesitation. Itama narrowed his eyes, gaze darting to the three, and Tobirama was going to stop that line of thought _right now_ . He hissed, rearing back because biting his brother would be _worth_ dealing with having a bit of snake poisoning when they switched back. 

“ _T_ _obirama_ ,” Mom said sharply. “If your brother is not allowed to strike you, you aren’t allowed to _either_. And Itama, you know that is not a question for polite company - apologize the both of you.” 

Itama scowled, looking as though he wanted to say something else entirely, before his gaze darted over to Madara and he _smiled_. If he said anything, Tobirama was going to bite him and he didn’t care what Mom was going to do about it afterwards. Instead Itama said, “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t really thinking. It seems to be going around lately.”

He was going to kill his brother. There was nothing else to be done. But Mom was watching him with narrowed eyes, so that was going to have to wait. “I lost control. My apologies.”

There was a long second before Hashirama said loudly, “Well, we’ll get started on figuring this out,” he gestured at Tobirama and Itama. “We’ll have you fixed in no time!” 

Based on the looks that Mito and Madara exchanged, that was perhaps a bit of an optimistic view.


	17. Kawarama/Izuna - magical realism

"I need a knife." 

He was  _ not _ going to jump. Kawarama took a breath, not turning from the bench in front of him, running his fingers over the ingots of metal, searching for the one that felt  _ right _ . "No, you  _ want _ a knife. If you needed one, you'd have run to the store. And if this is a rush job, I'm charging double  _ and _ telling you that you're on your own for quality." 

Izuna leaned against the doorframe, eyes glowing the peculiar shade of red that meant he was seeing if there was something Kawarama was keeping from him, and said, "Only if I want shit knives. And no, it's not a  _ rush _ job, but I'd like them soon. And I have runes I want you to put on them."

He looked up at that, eyebrows snapping together. "I'm not putting  _ anything _ on a weapon that I haven't researched myself. That's how you wind up getting charged because 'I didn't know those were soul sucking runes' isn't a defense anyone listens to." 

Izuna snorted and held up a sheet of paper. “These runes.” 

Kawarama plucked the paper from Izuna, skimming through them, frowning. “I haven’t seen this rune combination before…” he said slowly. Hell, he hadn’t  _ seen _ some of these runes before. “Where’d you get these?” 

There was a pause before Izuna said, “Around,” and Kawarama switched his focus to the other man, raising an eyebrow, because acquaintance or not, he wasn’t going to take  _ that _ for an answer. People didn’t just find these sorts of runes lying around - you needed to get them from a scholar or find them on a weapon. 

“I’m going to need more than that,” he said when Izuna stayed silent. “Runic weapons are regulated and I’m not risking my license just because you want to be secretive. I get enough of that bullshit from my brother.” 

He’d worked too hard through an apprenticeship and all of the hoops he needed to jump through to operate a forge where he could actually imbue magic into what he created instead of using it to make his work easier to risk it now. For one thing, he’d never hear the end of it, since no one else in the family got why he’d done it and moved out. 

Izuna scowled and vanished through the door, leaving Kawarama blinking at the spot he’d been occupying. “Alright then, guess I’m not getting more than that.” He tucked the paper into his pocket though - he wanted to know whatever Izuna was up to because if a shamanic family wanted a magic weapon for some reason, there was probably something in the wind that he wouldn’t like. 

Kawarama had  _ finally _ found the ingot for the commission when a sword clattered onto the bench next to him. He yelped - why the absolute  _ hell _ were the Uchiha so light footed? Madara was the exact same way! - before realizing what he was looking at. “Where the  _ hell _ did you get a sword?” 

Not that it looked like a functional sword - the thing didn’t have a proper point, for one thing, and the stylistic clouds that curled around the ends meant that one couldn’t be added, either. Unless it was supposed to be an equally useless fan. But there was no way that this sword wasn’t registered  _ somewhere _ .

“Ditch,” Izuna said. Kawarama gave him a flat look, because  _ no _ , and Izuna continued, “On my sweet grandmother’s grave, it was in a ditch, half buried in the mud.” 

“One, I’ve met your grandmother and she is neither dead nor sweet, so no. Second, this is at  _ least _ five hundred years old and there is no way that someone just  _ lost _ it. I can feel the magic and I’m not even touching it! So either it’s active or it’s powerful. Either way, try again.” Kawarama made very, very sure not to touch it, because the runes that ran down the middle and sides were practically  _ dripping _ power. 

Izuna scowled. “The  _ other _ grandmother. It was in a ditch, Senju, and I’ve already checked, it’s not on any magical registry I’ve been able to access. So, since you’re the only metal mage in the area, I was hoping you might be able to figure it out. “

“This is going to take me awhile,” Kawarama said after a second. “If you wanted answers faster, you should have gone to Tobirama - he’s the one with university access, not me.” 

“I would rather eat glass than owe your brother a favor.” Izuna nudged the sword. “Do you want to keep it here or not?”

He didn’t, but he also wasn’t going to get all those runes on the first pass, so he might as well. Not to mention he had a safe specifically for storing magical objects, which he doubted Izuna’s third story walk-up office did. 

“Sure, why not?” He grabbed a sack and used the tongs to topple the item into the bag. “I love keeping swords with magical runes I know nothing about in my shop.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s fine, seriously. I’ll try and have an answer for you in a few days. If it takes longer than that, I’m going to need to report it to the Mages’ Guild.” 

There was a few days grace period before found magical weapons had to be reported so they could be kept track of and checked against any active crimes, which was as long as Kawarama wanted to keep the sword anyway. At least if he went to the Guild, he wouldn’t have to deal with the University. 

“That’s fine,” Izuna waved a hand. “Just as long as I don’t have to deal with them or the University.”

Kawarama snorted. “Your family’s the one that decided to go into the esoteric and least consistent field of magic. You have only yourselves to blame. Besides, your decidedly not dead grandma told the head of the University to get fucked, which is why they don’t like you.”

“One, we didn’t  _ decide _ ,” Izuna said grumpily, “and  _ two _ , you’re one to talk, ‘my magic only shows up through my craftsmanship’, and three, bite your tongue, Grandmother has more class than that.”

Kawarama gave him a flat look. “There’s a recording.”

“I know, she was classier than that, though that was the sentiment, but the point is, the university mages don’t like our family, so I don’t want to deal with them,” Izuna said. 

“Right. Now unless you’re dropping a down payment for that knife you claimed to want, get out of my shop so I can get started on this piece. Doing your research doesn’t pay my bills.” Kawarama sighed as Izuna left after promising that he would get paid a consulting fee, turning back to the ingot. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s see what you want to be.”


	18. Hashirama/Izuna/Mito - arranged marriage

“Excuse me?” Izuna stared at the little pissant standing in front of him, taking in the forehead wrap with the metal plate, the non Uchiha colors, the desert air, and the fact he was  _ supposed to be dead _ and didn’t like the conclusion he was coming to. “You pulled me - out of the  _ Pure Lands _ \- in order to  _ stop a wedding?” _

The little worm opened his mouth and Izuna sliced a hand through the air. “No, send me back and grow a set of balls and a spine. I was dead. I was  _ happy _ being dead.” He wasn’t, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it and he’d been about to reincarnate, so it had been about to not matter. Now he was going to have to  _ start over _ . “Just because you have the courage of a civilian noblewoman isn’t any reason to screw up  _ my _ afterlife.” 

“You can’t talk to me like that!” The boy drew himself up, trying - and failing - to make himself look imposing. Izuna raised an eyebrow and examined the summoning ring he was in, narrowing his eyes as he spotted some familiar looking combinations. 

Of course. Of course it was  _ Tobirama’s _ work. Who else would manage to be such a massive pain in the ass even after Izuna was dead. “I can talk to you however I want. What are you going to do,  _ kill me? _ How terrible.” 

That seemed to throw him and Izuna poked at the seal as the idiot sputtered in the background, testing the control seal that he could feel burned in the back of his neck as he did. Well, unless he wanted to blow out his chakra coils, which seemed like a less than ideal plan at the moment --but was still on the list as an option-- that wasn't coming off. 

“You have to do what I say!” the boy finally declared, which probably  _ was _ true, unless he really was as stupid as Izuna thought. “Grandfather said I could use you first before he needed you.” 

Right. He was going to need to figure out who this grandfather was and then kill him too. “Alright, what did you want me to do, exactly?” 

“I already told you!” The idiot had the gall to act as though  _ he _ was the slow one. “Stop the wedding!” 

He was going to be doing the boy’s lineage a favor when he killed him, Izuna could already tell. “That’s it. Just - stop the wedding. Fine. I will stop the wedding and then we can go find this grandfather of yours for  _ more _ stupid orders. What does he want me to do, save a princess?” 

“Burn Konohagakure to the ground, actually,” the boy sniffed. “But he said I could use you first, since you’ll probably getting dispersed in the attempt.”

Now he was  _ really _ insulted. Still, he recognized the name from Madara’s babbling about Hashirama’s stupid idea of a village, so apparently that had gotten off the ground. And apparently had risen to prominence or Tobirama had gotten careless with his security. “Right. You want me to attack a shinobi village by myself. Sure, why not? I haven’t heard anything intelligent out of you so far.” 

“Not by yourself,” the boy said. “I’ve summoned help. You were the last one, Madara.” 

“Madar-” This  _ moron _ thought he was his  _ brother? _ They didn’t look a damn thing alike. Still, Izuna was willing to see how many errors the idiot could make, so he followed him down the hall towards the cells. 

“Absolutely not,” he said flatly, staring at Senju Hashirama. “I absolutely  _ refuse _ to work with that subversive lunatic.” Absolutely nothing was going to induce Izuna to forgive the fact that Hashirama had had the  _ gall _ to brazenly try and subvert Madara away from the clan right in front of Izuna and their father. 

“But you’re friends! Everyone knows that Uchiha Madara,” Hashirama choked and rapidly turned it into a coughing fit as the red headed woman snapped her fan open to hide the lower half of her face, “and Senju Hashirama were best friends.” He looked accusingly at Hashirama, “Right?” 

Izuna glared at him as Hashirama said, voice strangled, “I was definitely friends with  _ Madara _ , yes.” 

“There,” the idiot sounded satisfied. “I task the three of you to stop the wedding of Lady Sato Izumi to Hamada Ichigo. I will follow once you’re finished.” 

Izuna smiled thinly, wrapping a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Of course. Far be it from me to try disobeying a control seal.”

\---

“You didn’t have to kill everyone.” 

Izuna ignored the faintly disapproving note in Hashirama’s voice, pulling out a cloth to clean his sword with, and flipping over the body of one of the guests. Not Fire Country native, with hair that light blonde, unless she was a Yamanaka. “The wedding’s stopped isn’t it? And I didn’t see you contributing any.” 

Hashirama had stood back as Izuna had slammed into the wedding pavilion, taking his current ire out on the guests. He’d been merciful enough to offer quick deaths at least - no doubt the girl’s father had picked a far more suitable husband for his daughter than the little pissant that hadn’t been able to offer a compelling reason to marry her. 

“We could have just killed the groom,” Hashirama said, the red head woman standing quietly next to him. Her name hadn’t been offered and Izuna hadn’t asked. She was a redhead and attached to Hashirama - no doubt a Uzumaki, which was more than enough reason to dislike her. “Or waited until Mito found a way around the control seal. They hadn’t even started - we had an hour or two.” 

He didn’t particularly care - he was planning on killing the brat, which would negate the seal entirely. “And he should have been more specific. For all I know, this was what he wanted. And I was  _ content _ , being dead. This little twit doesn’t get to rip me out of the Pure Lands to do what he should have had the spine to do on his own.” 

“What did you  _ do?” _ And speak of the devil. 

Izuna turned at the horrified shriek, feigning surprise. “Stopped the wedding. Exactly like you asked. Anything else that you want me to do before I’m apparently supposed to burn the damn Senju village to the ground?”

The idiot ignored him, dropping to his knees to stare at the wedding pavilion and the corpses strewn around it. Izuna leaned against a tree, raising an eyebrow at Hashirama. “You want to go make him shut up? Since you haven’t contributed anything else so far.”

“You are extremely rough,” Mito said finally, her first verbal contribution. Not that she was looking any more sympathetic to the sniveling twit in the dirt. Hashirama was standing over him, but wasn’t actually helping - he looked like he was more interested in seeing how long the hysterics were going to last. “Very much like your brother.”

Izuna narrowed his eyes at her. Madara wasn’t  _ rough _ . Formal, maybe, and stiff with people he didn’t know or only dealt with in official capacities, but not  _ rough _ . “And what’s your grand contribution to this, other than decoration?” 

“My ability to work around seals,” Mito said stiffly and Izuna considered her for a long moment before deciding that attempting to kill her now that she was already dead wasn’t worth the effort. He had other people that he could focus his  _ rightful _ ire on who’d properly appreciate being murdered. 

“I’m hoping that Tobirama didn’t acquire his shitty security from you then,” he snapped, turning slightly as the idiot stopped behaving like a capital noble. 

“I can fix this,” the boy said, scrambling to his feet. “I can bring her back and apologize and she’ll see-” 

“I’m sure she’s going to be  _ real _ willing to listen once she finds out you set her entire family up to die,” Izuna interrupted, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword, testing the seals again. The control seal was still there, but sooner or later, the idiot was going to give an order that Izuna could interpret into killing him. “Most women tend to be sensitive about that sort of thing.”

The idiot had better not let his intended bride anywhere near a kitchen, that was for damn sure. 

“ _ You-! _ ” he snarled, whirling to face Izuna. “This is your fault!”

“I’d blame poor personnel choice and badly worded orders myself,” Izuna said, keeping his tone bland, watching the way the idiot’s face turned red. 

“You’re going to fix this!” Izuna raised an eyebrow. Well now. “This- you’re going to make this right.”

And there was his wiggle room. Izuna darted forward and slammed the hilt of his sword into the twit’s throat, dropping him to the ground, choking and trying to get air past his destroyed windpipe. 

“I’m not sure how that made this right,” Hashirama said  almost curiously  after a second. “He was very clearly talking about the wedding.” 

“Your Uzumaki is supposed to be good with seals,” Izuna said, nudging the choking body. “She can bring the girl back, he’s dead, and he didn’t say anything about  _ who _ I needed to make things right for. And it’s making things right for  _ me _ in any case. I’m certainly feeling better now.”

There were a couple of seconds of silence before Mito snapped her fan shut. “Go get the girl’s body.”

Izuna pointedly stayed where he was, until Hashirama realized that  _ he _ was expected to go fetch things for the Uzumaki. They were allies, he could do her bidding. It was almost anticlimactic, watching how the ritual worked - Mito kept muttering to herself about how it had been improved upon, which further cemented Izuna’s opinion that the Senju’s degeneracy in general and Tobirama’s in particular was catching. 

The girl’s eyes snapped open, ruined throat completely healed, and started screaming. Activating the sharingan was the work of an instant and she was a civilian, he didn’t need to go past the regular sharingan to knock her out. 

“You’re going to leave her unconscious in the dirt,” Hashirama said disapprovingly. 

Izuna exhaled. “No, I’m going to leave her unconscious under that tree,” he explained slowly. “Because I’m not taking her with me.”

He was going to cast a genjutsu as well,so that no one noticed her until she was awake, but if Hashirama didn’t notice that, there was no helping him. But he wasn’t going to be dragging a civilian woman all over Fire as he attempted to cut out Tobirama’s rot. 

“And where  _ are _ you going?” 

Izuna ignored the warning in the question - Hashirama wasn’t his clan head and wasn’t even clan to begin with and now apparently Izuna was immortal. What did he care if Hashirama didn’t like the answers. “Well, first I’m going to find his grandfather and explain how  _ unhappy _ I am with the current situation,” he said, tucking the girl out of sight among the roots of a tree and determinedly ignoring how they rearranged themselves to provide better cover, “and then, once I’ve gotten a further list of names, I’m going to begin correcting the fact that not only did your brother have the worst security I’ve  _ ever  _ seen on his seals, but that your utter disregard for anything but your own self-satisfaction has apparently spread like a disease.” 

Hashirama regarded him for a second before grinning. “Excellent plan! Mito and I will aid you, given that this has gotten well out of hand.” 

_ Oh no _ . Izuna stared at Hashirama in disbelief for three seconds before he flash stepped as far away as he could get. He was  _ not _ spend his immortal afterlife  _ stuck _ with Hashirama and his Uzumaki. 


	19. Hana/Itachi - dystopian/apocolypse

It was too hot. 

Itachi woke up, staring at the water stained ceiling, the predawn light filtering through curtains that probably hadn’t been changed in two decades, if that. His companion shifted restlessly, fingers curling and twisting in his shirt, and he didn’t move. There was a snuffling noise from the end of the bed, a pressure on his foot as one of the dogs rolled over in its sleep. 

“Tor-” Brown eyes blinked sleepily at him before Hana jerked back, cheeks reddening as she hurriedly disentangled herself from him and slipped off the bed. “Sorry. Again.”

He shrugged. “You’re used to companionship while you sleep. I’ll survive.” There was an awkward silence as Torune hung silently between them before Hana nodded jerkily and vanished into the bathroom before Itachi could apologize.

“Excellent work, Uchiha,” he muttered, starting his own morning routine as Hana’s three Kai Ken watched him, heads cocked to the side. “It’s not as though she  _ has  _ to be helping you.”

And he wasn’t going to be able to make it back himself - they’d been halfway across the country when everything had gone wrong. He hadn’t heard from his family in weeks and he had no idea if they’d managed to make it to Great-grandfather’s, which was where they were supposed to go if something like this happened. 

In fairness, he was fairly sure that  _ this _ had not been what Mom had been talking about when she’d sat him down and had him memorize how to get there. 

Hana re-emerged from the bathroom, braiding her hair as she walked. “There’s some lukewarm water left,” she said, “if you want to use it. Are the canteens filled?”

“Last night,” he confirmed, already rising. He wasn’t turning down running water - who knew how long they’d have access to that? “Are we stealing a car again?”

“It’s still the quickest way to travel,” she pointed out. “So long as we’re careful. And we’re five hundred miles from home.”

Five hundred miles from her younger brother. And Torune’s. 

He kept the shower short, combing fingers through his hair in lieu of brushing it and considering hunting up a pair of scissors from the front office before discarding the idea as a waste of time. Hana was packed and ready to go by the time that he stepped into the room. 

“Which one do you think?” he asked as they examined their options, her three dogs spreading out to explore the area. There weren’t many - this had been a gringy, run down motel before everything had collapsed and the scattering of cars reflected that. And he didn’t know a thing about cars - that hadn’t been something he’d had to learn. 

Hana studied all of them with a critical eye before heading towards a midsize car in the back of the lot. “That one. We’ll sound the tanks and fill it from the others before we go.”

And they’d drive it until the tank was dry before walking to the next parking lot and repeating the whole thing over again. Luckily the car was unlocked and the tank nearly full. “You drive,” Hana said. “I’ve got shotgun.”

“Do we have enough ammunition?” he asked, frowning. They had to use it increasingly often as time passed and law and order continued to break down, supplemented by the fact that her dogs were well trained and protective. 

Hana’s mouth tightened. “No. Next store we see we need to stop and see if they’ve been cleaned out already. We’ll grab whatever ammunition is left and try and find a gun to match it later.” She side-eyed him. “If it weren’t so precious, I’d see about making sure you can hit the broad side of a barn.”

“I’m a pacifist,” Itachi reminded her. “I’m not shooting someone.”

She rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. “Whatever. Just don’t patch them up when I’m finished with them, Gandhi.”

He opened his mouth to protest before sighing and following. He didn’t believe in violence, that didn’t mean he was an idiot or that he thought that asking nicely would get people to let him be. 

No, that was all Hana. He just needed to make sure that she was in one piece to do it. 


	20. Shisui/Kurenai - only one bed

“Well,” Kurenai said, examining the room, “at least its clean.” 

This was her first mission to the capital and she hadn’t been sure what to expect. She’d done missions for minor lords, but those typically were either isolated villas or smaller towns, and she’d always worked with a team before. But she’d done her research before coming, reading about the behaviors and alliances of the court nobles. It would take her a few days to start to see patterns of behavior and ascertain what was normal and what might not be, but this was an open ended contract. 

Shisui hummed an affirmative, prowling around the room. She wasn’t sure what to think of him - she thought she’d seen him around town, with some of the other Uchiha, but didn’t think he had many friends outside the clan. But she was a chunin to his jonin and a civilian shinobi to boot, so there hadn’t been any reason for them to interact before now. Anko had mentioned he was decent with a sword, which Kurenai translated to mean he was excellent.

Their room was slightly above the servant’s quarters, where a personal maid or manservant would be expected to sleep - near enough to get to their master or mistress quickly and far enough to be out of sight, out of mind. They were assigned to the oldest princess’s staff for the duration of this assignment. 

Or Kurenai was. Shisui was to mix with the household guards, but he was still close enough to be there if need be. She didn’t think she would need him - she’d searched out household spies before and knew what she was doing. 

“I’ll take the side of the bed closest to the door,” he said, finishing his examination of the room. “And we made good time - we have two days until the princess is actually scheduled to arrive.” He looked considering for a moment before asking, “Did you want to go see the area, get familiar with it - I know you haven’t been to the capital before.” 

She did actually. “Did you have an area that we should start in?” It was a little grating to be the second on a mission with someone four years younger than her, but he wasn’t acting Kakashi levels of insufferable, so she would be able to deal with it. 

He grinned. “There’s a street full of food stalls on the south wall of the palace that’s going to be better than anything they feed us in here  _ and _ we can walk as we eat, get a look at the evening rhythms in the area. Perfect combination of work and relaxation.” 

Working while relaxing, which was very similar to what Anko did - Kurenai didn’t think the younger girl ever  _ stopped _ assessing her surroundings as though she were on a mission. Which was understandable, if any of the rumors about what had happened because of her former sensei were true. 

Kurenai thought they were - Dad wouldn’t have such a pinched look on his face every time he saw Anko if they weren’t. 

“Since you’ve been here, any recommendations?” she asked, pushing open the door, her tone tilting towards teasing as a pair of servants walked by. “I can’t believe you made it to the capital before I did.” 

There were a number of possibilities for how they wanted to explain sharing a room, but they could discuss that while they ate and strolled through the streets. 

They had until at least tomorrow to find something that was acceptable to them both. 


	21. Anko/Rin - ANBU

Rin’s eyes snapped open, the low background hum of the wards turning into a sharp whistle before fading again as the window in the front room slid open. Her fingers curled around a kunai as she slipped out of bed, padding down the hall to the kitchen. She wasn’t worried, really - there were only so many people that might want to break into her apartment at three in the morning. 

“I had takeout,” she mentioned, coming into the kitchen as Anko was in the middle of rummaging through her fridge. “Sit down, I’ll make an omelet for you.” The girl jerked, staring at her before nodding shakily, and Rin pretended not to know what the black uniform meant - she’d had enough practice doing the same with Kakashi. She wanted to be surprised, but Anko was talented and politically embarrassing, better to have her placed where she wasn’t seen. 

It wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to having Kakashi turn up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, lurking in her kitchen and invading her couch on a regular basis. At least when Anko did it she was polite enough to do dishes and leave some money for groceries. 

Anko hovered over her as Rin worked, watching the preparation of ingredients with sharp eyed attention. That was normal. The way that Anko kept rubbing at her neck was not. 

“Get some rice out of the fridge,” Rin said, beating the eggs. “Is your neck bothering you?” 

Anko dropped her hand away from her neck and opened the fridge, loudly moving things around as she ostensibly looked for the rice. The silence was starting to settle, Rin willing to let the younger girl talk at her own pace, when Anko said, “I can feel him, sometimes, under my skin.”

“Have you told anyone?” She hoped so - six months past Orochimaru fleeing the village and everyone was still wary. Having the one person with any sort of chakra connection to him  _ feeling _ him was bound to get T&I’s attention. “I thought you said that it was sealed.” 

Anko dropped down at the kitchen table, leaning her cheek against it. “Jiraiya did the sealwork and Inoichi said that it was psychosomatic.” Rin looked over her shoulder as the twelve-year-old scowled at the far wall. “And then he spent three hours digging through my head.” 

Time spent with a Yamanaka in your head was never fun, even if they were trying to be gentle, and Rin wasn’t sure that they were. There were nine dead genin, two of which were Yamanaka, and Anko hadn’t told anyone for a week. 

She had a shift at the hospital in a few hours. “Do you want to get some sleep?” 

The speed at which Anko agreed wasn’t surprising - it wasn’t as though she had anywhere else to go . Rin got her set up in the bed, double checking her seals and reminding the girl that Kakashi or Tenzo might slip in and she didn’t want holes in her walls or blood anywhere. 

The seals were bad enough, she didn’t want to know her landlord’s reaction to bloodstains. He was already reluctant to rent to a sixteen-year-old, that might put him over the edge to evict her.

It would be incredibly annoying trying to find a free apartment again. 


	22. Mei/Konan - missing nin/akatsuki

“And you’re sure that she’s sniffing around for the Rokubi?” Mei pressed her lips together, glancing over at Ao, who had been tasked with locating Utakata - the boy had fled nearly three years ago and had effectively gone to ground. But with Yagura dead and the Sanbi dissipated for who knew how long, hiding was no longer an option for him. More worrying was the woman in the Akatsuki cloak - Mei still remembered the two that had attempted to capture Yagura less than a half decade ago. They had been rebuffed, but a gang of mercenaries should have no need to test their teeth on a jinchuriki. “Do  _ we _ know where he is?”

“That’s what we think, based on what questions she’s been asking,” he said, looking displeased before adding, “And no. We think he’s on the western islands somewhere, but we haven’t been able to narrow it down beyond that.” 

Which was  _ frustrating _ \- the chakra signature alone should have made it near impossible to hide. A testament to Utakata’s master, that he’d managed to go to ground so well, but at least he hadn’t turned up as a missing nin elsewhere. “Are we sure he’s still alive?” 

“We’re reasonably sure that he is.” Which meant they had no idea and were basing the guess on the fact that no one had seen a giant sea slug emerge from the ocean. Mei was going to brand a tracking seal on him just as soon as they located him - if he was off hiding on an island he wasn’t going to be doing Kiri any good. Look at what happened to Iwa; they’d taken their eyes off of theirs and now the two were well known to be out of Iwa’s control and just as likely to attack their own countrymen as enemy shinobi. 

Still it could be worse - they could be Konoha or Suna, losing control of theirs while they were  _ in _ the village. She was honestly surprised they were still standing. But the more immediate problem at hand, “I want her detained. If you can’t do that, then kill her. But we are no longer allowing foreign spies free reign.” 

Yagura had and he’d been subverted by a foreign power that they still hadn’t managed to identify. 

She’d already barred entry to any foreign shinobi or visitors and was systematically working her way through the village, digging out traitors and spies by the roots. It wasn’t going to be enough - Water was too hard to isolate, with hundreds on hundreds miles of coastline, dozens of inhabited islands, even more uninhabited ones, but she was determined that her village would  _ not _ be at the mercy of foreign influence again. 

She’d already sent Kumo several of their agents back in pieces and she had the few she’d located from Konoha currently in the care of T&I. They’d be going back in a similar fashion to Kumo as soon her head of interrogation was done with them. There were one or two that they’d left in place - better to have a good handle on them than deal with the others trying to sneak more spies in. 

“I’ll send one of the hunter squads immediately.” Ao said. “They should be able to manage a capture.” 

Mei hoped so - she was looking forward to seeing what the woman wanted. 


	23. Tenten/Shikamaru - injury

“I can’t believe you,” Tenten said, amused at the way Shikamaru was wincing, leaning on the counter and resting her chin on her hand. “You pulled a muscle in your back? Please tell me it was at least on a mission.”

“It was target assessment and containment,” Shikamaru said stiffly, wincing slightly as he shifted. As if he thought she didn’t know that he’d been in the village for the last six weeks, preparing to take over the jonin commander’s position. And as though Temari wasn’t in here every other day, getting in sparring - they’d come a long way from the chunin exams from a decade ago. 

“The only thing you’ve been doing is watching Shikadai while Temari is catching up with Gaara,” she said, bemused. She didn’t have any kids of her own - it was something she’d considered, off and on, but that would require finding someone she was interested in enough to both do the deed and deal with for at least the first few years of the kid’s life. And he couldn’t be clan - she’d been teammates with Neji too long to want anything to do with clan bullshit. “You got outmaneuvered by a toddler.” 

Not that it would be hard, if the kid got the usual helping of Nara intelligence combined with Temari’s practical and occasionally vindictive streak. 

“One, my toddler is  _ evil _ and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that he was switched with Ino’s demon spawn,” Shikamaru informed her, looking vaguely proud. “And two, he decided he wanted to wander off into the forest and play with the fawns. Which wouldn’t be a problem if one of the bucks wasn’t nursing an injury.” 

Tenten winced - the Nara deer could get  _ mean _ if they were of a mind to. Their horns also made for some of the best non-metal weaponry out there, if she wasn’t inclined to try her luck with the Yamanaka’s boars. She usually wasn’t - she didn’t like owing Ino’s clan favors. They were too involved in T&I and the science division for her to like that.

“So your toddler outran you into the woods and then you… tripped?” she prodded, because really, he was a  _ jonin _ , about to become the second highest military commander in the village and he’d been outmaneuvered by a two year old. 

“He didn’t  _ outrun _ me,” Shikamaru snapped, wincing again before muttering, “I was taking a nap and he snuck out. What kind of toddler  _ doesn’t _ like taking naps?” 

Boruto, Shikadai apparently, Chocho, Inojin, Sarada… basically most of them. Shino’s two definitely did, but that could be an Aburame thing, given it was the middle of winter. Hana’s daughter was currently passed out in Tenten’s back room with Kiba’s kid, cuddling with their puppies while Hana dealt with some of the ninken and Kiba had a mission to Water. Of course, Tenten had let them run the baby version of her training course in the backyard, so that might have something to do with it. 

“Amazing that you didn’t plan for that,” Tenten said dryly. “If only Pein had known, the great Nara, unable to out-plan a toddler. They’d have overrun us within the week, if only they’d used babies that didn’t nap. Haven’t you heard of baby gates?” 

Shikamaru groaned. “It’s not a Suna thing, apparently. If the kid gets out they wander around until someone escorts them home. And  _ I  _ didn’t need a baby gate.” 

Tenten favored him with an unimpressed look. “You didn’t walk until you were like two years old,” she pointed out. “Your mother thought something was wrong with you.” She paused, trying to remember through the haze of Wind Country alcohol to Shikamaru’s wedding and Choji’s best man speech. “Wait, didn’t she think you were deaf or something too?” 

“ _ How _ do you remember that?” Shikamaru demanded. “I made  _ sure _ all the best,” most potent, “alcohol was out during the first fifteen minutes.” 

She gave him a withering look. “ _ Jonin _ and I wanted to know what embarrassing shit Ino or Choji was going to trot out. I like having blackmail material.” 

“... you and Naruto,” Shikamaru grumbled, before sighing, “If I confirm this, will you  _ please _ do your acupuncture thing and fix my back before there’s the toddler sleepover that Temari agreed to host?” 

“Fine, fine,” Tenten flapped a hand in his direction and digging around in the drawer for her needles. “I’d hate for the three-year-olds to get the S-class bounty money for killing you. Asuma would be laughing his ass off from the afterlife.” 

“Thank you,” Shikamaru muttered, following her out to the courtyard where she had a table that she used when she decided to earn some extra money doing both acupuncture and massages for the jonin and anbu. She had the arm strength and the know how, so why not? It helped finance her love of collecting esoteric weapons. “And she did - we went to the medic and he told her I just had selective hearing. I could hear fine. I just wasn’t listening to  _ her _ .” 

Tenten snorted, cracking her knuckles. “I am not even surprised. Now, this is going to be painful.” She grinned evilly. “Try not scream like Kiba does.” 

  
He didn’t. He was  _ much _ higher pitched. 


	24. Biwako/Hiruzen - steampunk

“There it is.” Hiruzen carefully shifted the gear, letting the piece slide into place as he examined his mechanical creation one more time for any defects. It wasn’t his most elaborate creation to date - that honor went to the home that he and Biwako had painstakingly created for themselves in the mountains, days from the nearest town - but it was still fairly complex. “What do you think, my boy?” 

Konohamaru deigned to give the small monkey a disinterested glance before burying his face back in Hiruzen’s chest. Which wasn’t unusual since Hotaka had dropped him off earlier this month. “Not that interesting right now? I don’t blame you - let’s try this then.” He reached out and fiddled with the monkey, a slight bang sounding as the  huoyao  set off the reaction that turned the gears. 

The monkey shifted, moving stiffly as gears creaked and wobbled across the desk. Konohamaru peeked at it, his eyes widening as he watched it move. His grandson reached out, fingers grasping at the monkey as he babbled, the most noise he’d made beyond crying. “There we are,” Hiruzen said, smiling softly before wincing as the boy grabbed his beard and used it to pull himself to his feet. 

“You have only yourself to blame,” Biwako remarked from the kitchen. “I’ve told you to trim it at least once a moon since we came here.” 

She had - Hiruzen would know something was wrong when she didn’t insist that he trim it back some more. 

“It’s springs are wound too tight on one side,” she commented, coming to stand in the doorway and watching as the monkey limped around the table. “You’ll have to take it apart and start over.” 

He did, but Konohamaru was trying to climb on the table to go after the monkey, limping in circles, and Hiruzen sighed. “No, I think creating a new one will do for the moment. Let the boy have his toy.” 

It was a little enough thing and it made him happy. Hopefully Hotaka and Aveza would start to get the wanderlust out of their veins and settle down somewhere. Preferably somewhere nearby and not out on the east coast like Kasa. Though she might not be there anymore - she’d decided the best way to do what she wanted was to pretend to be a man and there was no way to know how she was faring. Mail from the east coast to their small town could take months, if a message was sent at all. 

Hiruzen could only hope that Asuma was doing well - his youngest had felt too stifled and taken off in the dead of night, leaving him and Biwako here, at least until Hotaka had reappeared with Konohamaru. 

“Well, playing with your inventions isn’t going to get him dinner,” Biwako said dryly. “So if you could come in here and help with the chopping, we can eat. Growing children need vegetables.” 

The kitchen was nearly entirely mechanized, but some things Biwako liked to do her herself - chopping the food was one of them. Hiruzen settled Konohamaru in the pen with the monkey and fiddled with the gaselier, casting a bit more light in the kitchen before checking the cache of  huoyao. It was more refined than the explosive powders than the Americans used and when he augmented it with the steam that the Europeans preferred, it made his inventions work smoother. 

If he’d had this during the revolution… but he hadn’t and there was no use in ruminating on the past now. That was over and done, and he was in America, far away from Japan and its new, more westernized government. Now it was enough to ease their life up on the mountain. 

There was a knock on the door and he exchanged a glance with Biwako. For someone to come all the way up here, they must have a compelling reason. Biwako placed her carving knife on the counter and pulled her revolver out of one of the drawers. Konohamaru quieted, watching the two with wide eyes. 

He flipped open the eye hole and was met with whiteness. He frowned, squinting as he tried to figure out what was blocking his view, before the white stepped back, revolving itself into - he opened the door, beaming at his student. “Jiraiya, enter and be welcome.” 

“Hello sensei,” Jiraiya said, smiling crookedly as four heads popped out from behind him, staring at him with curiosity. Further back, Tsunade was examining the house critically and Hiruzen felt his stomach drop. For his patron’s only granddaughter to have made this journey now couldn’t mean anything good. And it couldn’t have been easy. But he had opened the door, so he stepped aside and allowed them in. 

“Who gave you children?” Biwako asked, giving all of them a once over. “And I knew not curbing your philandering ways was going to have consequences. Not one of them by the same woman either, I’d wager.”

Jiraiya started sputtering as Tsunade laughed and the children exploded into various levels of outrage. Biwako let them for a second before slapping her hand against the small gong she used to call dinner. “Sit,” she ordered them. “And you can tell us what you want while we eat.” 

His student’s smile dropped, his expression turning grim. “It’s Orochimaru, sensei. We were hoping for your help.” 

Of course. He should have known that it would be his most troubled - if brilliant - student. “Tell me what happened.” 


	25. Mei/Kawarama - high seas

“Another summons?” Kawarama asked lazily, plucking the missive from the man’s fingers, ignoring the man’s sputtering as he flipped the paper over to examine the seal. That was definitely the Fire Daimyo’s seal. The noise of the docks almost overwhelmed the man’s increasingly puffed up complaining, but that wouldn’t last long - his sort had an overinflated sense of their own importance and the volume to match. “And he sent you all the way down to Kurotori just for us?” 

“ _H_ _ ardly _ ,” the man sniffed, having finally managed to figure out the correct volume to be heard, unfortunately. “But since I was already surveying the southeastern ports and your-” Kawarama raised an eyebrow at the tone in the man’s voice and he quickly switched words, “-crew is known for frequenting such places, I was tasked with delivering the missive whenever you reappeared.”

Kawarama tapped the summons against his thigh, idly watching the crew unloading the ship. This last haul had been a good one, picking up cargo heading from Water Country into the southern oceans, including some bricks of saffron and sumac.  _ Those _ would sell well or could be used to keep the Daimyo happy. Though the man was probably expecting some sort of bribe, going by the way that he was still standing in front of him. 

“Right.” Kawarama tucked the summons into a pocket. “Well, I’ll make sure she gets it.” 

The man drew himself up to his full height, which was still pathetically short of Kawarama’s almost six and a half feet, and sneered at him. “I was  _ instructed _ to give this to the captain  _ in person _ , not some cabin boy whose fingers are stickier than they ought to be.” 

“Well, she’s busy,” Kawarama said with a shrug, tilting his head slightly to see if Mei was still talking with Ao - the first mate had some concerns about some of the damage that they’d taken in the last battle and wanted her opinion on it. “Leave it with me or get off the dock and risk missing us when we sail, this wasn’t a pleasure stop.” 

“ _ You- _ ” 

A hand snaked around his chest, resting on his sternum, nails lightly pressing against skin and a warm weight pressed up against his back as Mei asked, “What’s going on here?” 

Kawarama shifted to the side so that she could move past him if she liked - the dock was barely wide enough for two small men to pass each other, let alone anyone larger. Mei stayed where she was, expression politely inquisitive but also very clear that this was wasting her time. The fact that she could convey both was  _ always _ a source of delight to him. 

“The Daimyo sent an errand boy to give us a summons,” he handed it to her as the man went red. “But you looked busy.” 

“I was,” Mei said, not even looking at the summons before it vanished into one of her many pockets. “The ship has  _ claw _ marks on it. Can you think of anything that could do that?” 

He could think of several, off the top of his head, but not why they’d be involved in almost sinking a ship. “No, but I know some people that might have some thoughts on the subject.” 

Mei’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He turned, blocking the man’s view and lightly tapped the pocket with the summons. “I can talk to Itama,” he said quietly. “No need to summon death’s guide for this.” 

She relaxed slightly. She never had been easy about Tobirama, but since Kawarama didn’t want to throw someone overboard every time he wanted to talk to his brother, it wasn’t something that came up often. A light brush of fingers over lips and she slipped by him, saying to the man, “Well, I’ll give the summons due consideration. But in the meantime, I need to do actually work, so get off my dock.” 

The man opened his mouth as though he was going to say something else, but Mei had already turned around and was heading back to the ship. “Ao, Kawarama! We have actual work to do. I can’t have you wasting time talking to messenger boys.” 

Kawarama smirked and tossed the man a jaunty salute as he ambled after Mei, slipping around Ao to come up behind her, grinning, “And what does my captain need me to do? I’ve already sent off the cabin boys with my shopping list.” They were low on some of the herbs that he preferred using - he wasn’t a herbalist, but he managed well enough with poultices and what he had from Itama’s books and notes. 

“Your captain,” Mei said turning and tugging his neckerchief, pulling him down into a searing kiss before pulling him in the direction of the ship, “wants you to distract her from the current annoyances. We’ve nothing to do until Ao can get us someone to take a look at the ship.”

“I think,” he rested his hands on her hips and tugged her forward, ignoring the pointed sigh from Ao, “I can come up with something.” 

\----

“What did he want this time?” Kawarama asked a few hours later, pulling his pants as Mei readjusted her shirt, watching as she made it as neat as possible. He grabbed a hairbrush as he caught her hand, tugging her back to the bed and beginning to brush her auburn hair. 

She obligingly tilted her head back, letting him catch the thick strands between his fingers. “We’re to target Water Country ships,” she said - as though they didn’t already do that. There was good profit in it and it wasn’t as though they had any good feelings for Yagura. “And bring him back two-thirds of the profits.” 

“ _ Two- _ ” Kawarama broke off, doing the mental calculations. Mei had near twenty ships under her command. If he took two-thirds of the cargo that they captured, the ships would manage, but his coffers... “Is he planning on going to  _ war _ with Water?” he demanded, setting the comb to the side and pulling Mei’s hair up into the topknot she favored. Not that that made much difference - Kawarama certainly wasn’t going to volunteer to do his patriotic duty and Hashirama was well away from that mess in Whirlpool, but Itama… surgeons were always in high demand when the fighting started. 

And Water hadn’t fought a straight battle in its entire existence, preferring coastal raids over all else, which didn’t help his older brothers any. 

Mei snorted, standing. “He’s more than welcome to. No one’s managed to win yet, but he could be the first.” 

Kawarama doubted it. “Well, if it makes him happy.” He stood after her, hooking his thumb in her belt loops and pulling her close. “But you can go play politics with court officials and I’ll go ask Itama about our claw problem.” 

“You just want to avoid having to dress up and pretend to have manners,” she accused, mouth quirking up. “But I do want to know what might be causing it and if we need to spend money to have a priest or sea witch spell the boat, so just this once you can abandon me.” 

“I’d never,” Kawarama protested as they headed for the upper deck. “Though yeah, not having to pretend to bow and scrape is appealing.” 

“I know it,” Mei said, before turning to go find Ao. “Still, it won’t be long. And then we can be back on the ocean where we belong.” 


	26. Haku/Zabuza - cops and criminals

“They’re trying to get him tried as a juvenile,” Genma said, sounding disgusted, staring through the one way glass at Inoichi and Haku. So far the kid hadn’t responded to the older man besides a half smile that just got more disturbing the longer he held it. “Idiots.” 

“Not anymore they’re not,” said Raidō. “Or the prosecution isn’t going for it - they’ve dug up a birth certificate, he turned eighteen three months ago.”

There was that, he guessed, but that wasn’t likely to stop the defense attorney any. The man was a bleeding heart who had taken one look at Haku’s big eyes and was convinced he could be rehabilitated. Tobirama wasn’t nearly that gullible - he was going to throw the book at both of them. The prosecutor was a pain in the ass because he typically tended to be overly involved and pedantic about them doing their jobs, but the conviction rate when he got involved was greater than eighty percent, so Genma was willing to forgive him for being as much of an annoying bastard as he was. 

“Momoichi is being charged with close to a dozen counts of murder,” Inoichi said inside the interrogation room. “If you want to help him, I need to know which ones he didn’t commit, if any.”

The defense attorney scowled. “You’re not going to get him to admit to being at those crime scenes, Yamanaka. So far you have nothing tying my client irrefutably to the crimes.” 

He was unfortunately right. All they had was Haku’s prints on some of the weapons - he could have cleaned them for Zabuza without knowing what they’d been used for - and a few hairs on the bodies, which was currently being explained away as being transferred by Zabuza. At best they might get him as an accomplice or an accessory before or after the fact, which wouldn’t carry the same penalties as if they could link him to the crime scene. 

Tobirama  _ really _ wanted to link him to the crime scene.  _ Any _ of the crime scenes. 

Inoichi was laying the photos of the scene out on the table, placing them in random order, and Genma squinted at them. “Isn’t that-?” 

“Hidan’s kills? Yeah.” Raidō took a sip of coffee and sighed, giving the cup a look of deep betrayal. “Decaf. But hopefully the kid will confirm that he can tell the difference. Inoichi is hoping that if we can actually pressure him with something, he’ll crack.” 

“Do you actually believe that?” 

Raidō snorted. “No. The kid jumped in front of a bullet for the asshole. If he’s willing to die for him, prison isn’t going to phase him. Apparently Shikaku is pulling in Ibiki to see if he can deprogram him.” 

Genma whistled. “Is Senju footing the bill for the big guns then?” 

“He wants whoever is behind Yagura and he can afford it,” Raidō said. “Yeah, he’s footing the bill.” 

Well. As long as they had backing, Genma was willing to follow Senju’s lead. It wasn’t as though  _ he _ was looking forward to the turf war that was going to erupt in Kiri’s underbelly just as soon as Mei got her feet back under her. He stared at the kid and that unnerving half smile. 

No. No he really wasn’t. 


	27. Kagami/Danzo - meet cute (restaurant mafia AU)

“You’re sure about this?” Danzo asked skeptically, looking at the hole-in-wall restaurant that was shoved in between a twenty-four hour laundromat and a convenience store that looked surprisingly well kept for the neighborhood. Apparently the owner managed to keep up on the protection money with the local gang. 

Hiruzen clasped him on the shoulder. “It’s better than it looks, I promise! Best duck soup in the city.” 

The ‘e’ in the Open sign flickered sadly before dying with a faint pop and Danzo gave his friend a skeptical look. “Really.” 

“Really!” Hiruzen reassured him. “I wouldn’t take you to a terrible restaurant on your first visit to the city!” 

Not his first visit - he’d spent three days staking out the docks less than a month ago, but this was the first time that he’d told his friend that he was visiting. It seemed like a good overlap of his time - he could visit Hiruzen and Biwako, meet his goddaughter, and look up the head of the local gang. If he could figure out who it was - the entirety of the city was tight lipped and apparently the cops were well bribed. According to them, there was no gang problem. 

Which wasn’t possible in a city this size. The worst crime he’d been able to find was some tourist getting murdered a few months ago and they’d found the killer within a week. Since he knew that he’d left at least three bodies on the dock just last month, someone was covering crime up on a massive scale. It would be interesting to get an agreement with that sort of power. 

“Fine,” he said, pushing open the door and letting Hiruzen pass him, taking a minute to scan the room. Nearly empty, the music playing tinnily over speakers, though someone had arranged each of the tables with sad, wilting flowers that looked like they were one wrong air movement away from spontaneously shedding all their petals. “I can already tell my first impression was way off.” 

Hiruzen just snorted and headed for a table near the back, letting Danzo take the wall seat so he could keep an eye on the entire room. Close to the bathrooms and kitchens, which meant there was a secondary way out. At least the smells coming from the kitchen belayed the terrible first impression set by the decor. 

“Sarutobi, I told you that-” the waiter came out of the kitchen and stopped short when he saw the two of them. “You brought a friend.” It wasn’t hostile, but it certainly wasn’t going to be getting him much in the way of a tip either. 

“I did,” Hiruzen breezed right by the lack of enthusiasm like it didn’t exist, which was how he solved most problems, really. “And I realize you said lunch hours were reserved, but it is technically after lunch,-” Danzo watched as the clock clicked over to a minute past one, “-and you have the best food in the area, so surely it wouldn’t hurt to  _ look _ .” He smiled winningly at the waiter, who looked bemused. 

“You’re lucky that grandma likes you,” he said dryly, raising his eyebrows. “I’ll go see what she’s got.” 

“There’s no menus here,” Hiruzen explained as the waiter vanished into the kitchen to the sound of rapid scolding in Japanese. “The cook just sends out whatever she happens to be making.” 

That sounded horrifying. The lack of order alone… no wonder no one ate here except Hiruzen. And possibly Biwako. Although Torifu might like the adventure. 

The bell over the door tinkled and several men walked in, talking and laughing as they did. Danzo straightened as they glanced over at the corner he and Hiruzen were sitting in. One of them peeled off to head into the kitchen, another burst of Japanese filtering out into the main dining area as he did, and one headed in their direction. 

“Sarutobi,” the man said, glowering at them. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Again.” 

Danzo took in the suit, gloves, and large amount of hair, trying to decide if he needed to go for his gun or not. The man was clearly carrying at least one gun and if he didn’t have more, Danzo would eat his napkin. Hiruzen ignored that, “Your grandma invited me back. And I tip extremely well.” 

The man twitched, looking even more disgruntled, and gave the kitchen an exasperated look. “Of course she did.” A grudging pause, “And you do.” 

“Madara, if you scare away my tips, I’m telling grandma,” their waiter said, nudging Madara out of the way. “She says you don’t appreciate her cooking like real customers do.” He beamed at them, “I’m Kagami, what can I get for you?” 

Madara gently cuffed him upside the head before stalking over to the table, where the man that had gone into the kitchen was sitting, talking to a blonde haired man that Danzo recognized from a meeting with his boss a few months ago. He gave Kagami a returning smile, “Whatever the chef recommends.” 

After all, if he was going to be spending lunches here, he’d better start ingratiating himself now. 


	28. Tobirama/Izuna/Madara - soulmates

**\---Tobirama, Age 6**

It  _ hurt _ . 

Tobirama stayed in bed, Itama and Kawarama curled up on either side of him as Hashirama hovered nearby, talking rapidly. He let his brother’s chatter wash in one ear and out the other, trying to listen to Mother and Father talking with the elders in the other room. His skin was still red and tender, under the cloth that Great-aunt Aki had wrapped them in, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she’d done so. 

“Are you alright?” Hashirama asked, finally stopping and looking at Tobirama worriedly. “‘Cause your throat-”

It had been blistered and red and bleeding, but Tobirama nodded. It was just as sore as his arms, but Hashirama worried and worrying loudly. “I’m fine. Could you get me Grandmother’s book?” 

He  _ wasn’t _ . Only people with soulmates got injured for no reason and people with soulmates died because they weren’t together. Hashirama brightened and dashed away, to find the book from Uzushio. Tobirama looked up as Mother’s voice rose before cutting off sharply and she swept out of Great-aunt Aki’s office, mouth pressed into a thin line. Father appeared after her, gaze going to Tobirama before he slid the door shut. 

Mother sat on the edge of the bed, absently gathering Itama to her when his younger brother made a sleepy complaint. She cupped his cheek, examining him carefully before saying, “Yours isn’t the worst way to learn about your soulmate,” she said. “Though hopefully next time they’ll be more considerate when they practice.”

“Aunt Aki think it’s a Uchiha, doesn’t she?” Of course Hashirama was the one to ask. Tobirama didn’t want to, not yet, because everyone knew that having an Uchiha as a soulmate was the worst thing that could happen - it’s almost as good as a death sentence. It definitely meant that he’d be confined to the compound until his soulmate is dead.

Mother’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Never mind what your aunt thinks.” That might as well have been a yes and her expression softened, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “We live in Fire Country, almost every clan has at least a handful of Fire users. Let’s not borrow trouble. It might be a nice Sarutobi girl.”

She’s right, he thought, twisting his fingers in the thin sheets of the bed. It didn’t  _ have _ to be a Uchiha. 

**\---Izuna, Age 10**

Bone snapped and Izuna yelled, Uncle Amatsu at his side an instant later, picking him up and almost sprinting to the infirmary, dumping him on a bed in front of Aunt Fumiko. 

“Where is he now?” Aunt Fumiko was focused on him, healing chakra pouring into the break, knitting it together as quickly as possible. Izuna held still, waiting for another injury, because Madara had to be in trouble. He wouldn’t have gotten injuries on  _ accident _ . Not on a mission. 

“He should be wrapping up a mission with Ryusuke near the border with Earth,” Uncle Amatsu said grimly, watching him like a hawk as Father swept into the infirmary. “We’ll need a rotation of healers until we know what happened. There’s a team heading out to meet them.”

Because if something happened to Madara, as long as there was a healer hovering, they could probably save Izuna himself. Izuna was stuck in bed, but Oichi came to sit with him, reading over her medic studies, as they wait for news about Madara. 

They fell asleep curled around each other, waiting for news. 

“Hey.” A hand shaking his shoulder and Izuna blinked up at Madara, who smiled down at him, arm still in the field sling that they’d put on it. Izuna scrambled up, examining him as Oichi woke up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, only a second behind him. 

“What did you do?” He frowned at his brother even as one of the overnight healers came over, scolding Madara for not waking her up first. “It  _ hurt _ .” 

His brother frowned at him. “I was going to ask you the same question. Did you have a bad training accident?” 

Izuna blinked, suddenly uncertain. “But I didn’t have one.” 

“What.” Father’s voice was flat as he walked over to them, Uncle Amatsu following him. His eyes were dark as he looked between the two of them. “You’ve both been injured with no obvious cause, which could mean-“

“A third?” Uncle Amatsu looked skeptical, stroking his beard. “The odds of that are astronomical.”

It was less than one in a thousand soulmates, which were already rare, Izuna knew, but how else could they explain this? “How are we going to find them?” he asked. “Do you think they’re a shinobi too?” He didn’t see how they could be anything else - soulmates were supposed to be compatible, made so that your other half could cover for your weaknesses and watch your back as you did the same for them. 

“No injuries before now,” Uncle Amatsu murmured. 

Father shook his head. “None that we know of,” he corrected. “How many of the boys’ injuries have been misidentified as training mishaps or we’ve thought were caused by each other?” His expression was pinched. “The top priority, so long as we can avoid alerting any of the other clans is finding them. Although how we’re going to do that....”

“We’ll do what we can,” Uncle Amatsu said. “Both boys travel in a team with a medic from now on. And to think,” he said ruefully, “in the north, they write notes to their soulmates on their skin.”

**\--- Tobirama, Age 15**

He’s fifteen and he’s going to kill his soulmate  _ himself _ , never mind the belief about those that do never making it to the Pure Lands for rejecting the gift from the gods. Tobirama isn’t even sure he believes in those, but if they’re real, they’ll understand. 

He could even drown them - that would take care of the problem and all he’d have were some sore lungs at the end of it.

“Still limping?” Grandfather sounds pitying and Tobirama  _ hates _ that, but there’s nothing he can do - his soulmate is a  _ clumsy idiot _ who’s going to get Tobirama killed because he’s so injury prone that Tobirama can’t go anywhere without a medic! 

The only thing that they had managed to learn was that his soulmate wasn’t an ally. Or even one of the clans in the area they were familiar with - none of their shinobi in the right age range had the right injuries at the right time. Or at least not  _ all _ of them and they were shinobi, kunai or bruises were so common that they were almost useless. 

Most soulmates at least were in the same country, but there were dozens on dozens of smaller families scattered among the clans that had chakra but didn’t do anything outside of their home village and the surrounding farms, and they didn’t even have contact with all of the clans anyway. 

Hashirama was sure it was an Uchiha since Tobirama had kept winding up with burns when he was younger. Tobirama couldn’t deny the theory was attractive for its simplicity, but what were the odds that he’d get tied to their most hated rival? The odds were just as good for an obscure family too unimportant to bother with. 

Tobirama hoped it was an obscure family. 

**\---Madara, Age 20**

He’s in the middle of a battle, focusing on Hashirama because he’s the biggest threat on the field, when he’s nearly taken out by a silver blur. He manages to dodge and the form resolves itself into an albino teenager that stops in Hashirama’s shadow, watching him carefully. Madara activates the sharingan without thinking, memorizing the teenager’s features to describe later - he’s never seen him before, but the way that he’s standing and the way that Hashirama is half in front of him means that they’re connected in someway. 

There’s a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, because now that he’s  _ looking _ , there’s something familiar, but- “Tobirama. We thought you were dead.” 

That was what the best of their intelligence had come up with, when he’d vanished five years ago. 

“Good to know your intelligence is that lacking.”

Madara narrowed his eyes at the scathing comment, but he didn’t know the capabilities of this new variable on the field and Izuna was travelling with Oichi on some mission to one of the villages under their direct protection - he couldn’t afford for Madara to get too injured. 

“Hashirama?” Tobirama asked, waiting for his brother’s signal. There was a lull in the battle, as the combatants realized that there was far less chakra being thrown around than he and Hashirama usually managed. 

Hashirama took a step back. “Not today.” His… whatever Hashirama was - not a friend anymore, but not entirely an enemy either - nudged the younger man. “Distract Hikaku, he’s overwhelming Touka.”

“But-”

“I’ve got this. Go, before Father notices.” Tobirama scowled, but took a quick step back and vanished, aiming straight at Hikaku and his squad. Madara watched him for a second before turning back to Hashirama, adjusting his grip on his sword before pivoting and diving after Tobirama, shifting the battle towards the main bulk of the forces before Hashirama could decide to say something. 

  
  


**\---Izuna, age 16**

  
  


“It’s Senju Tobirama.” 

Izuna blinks, thrown by the apparent non sequitur and sighing slightly as the healing kicked in, taking care of the shoulder wound.  _ Not _ one his brother got, since Madara’s clothing is still intact, which meant that their soulmate was being careless. Again. At least he and Madara had each other to accelerate the healing. Their third didn’t have anyone.

“Our third,” Madara said with a groan, dropping down next to him and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, “is  _ Senju Tobirama _ .” 

Izuna stared at him, because he could  _ not _ have heard that correctly. “What. Are you  _ sure? _ It was a fight, it could have been a coincidence.” 

Uncle Amatsu was going to explode, never mind what Father was going to do. Madara dropped his hands and gave him an incredulous look. “Am I  _ sure? _ No, I randomly claim Senju as soulmates  _ all the time _ . Of course I’m sure! Or we could ask Hikaku, since he stabbed him.” 

“Well where is he?” Izuna asked, because that was the important thing. 

Madara didn’t say anything and Izuna straightened. “ _ Madara _ -” 

“He’s with the Senju,” Madara sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hashirama’s mokuton got there first before anyone but me realized what was going on.” 

Izuna groaned, tilting over to rest his head on Madara’s shoulder, because there wasn’t anything to do about it now. “ _ Shit _ ,” he said, because  _ someone _ was going to need to tell Father. 

“Shit,” Madara agreed. 

  
  


**\--- Tajima**

“A  _ Senju _ .” There was a malicious kami somewhere laughing at him. Tajima tapped his empty cup on the table and thought about refilling it, but Amatsu placed a hand over the neck of the jug. “Butsuma’s son, even worse.” 

“His second,” Kishibo said, turning her own cup in her hands. “I was under the impression that he was dead before he reappeared three months ago. How did we miss that?” 

Amatsu’s lips thinned. He wasn’t happy about that oversight either but there wasn’t anything to be done about it now. And it was - good and Tajima had never thought he’d have to think that. The boy would have been one of their primary targets if they hadn’t thought he was dead already and Tajima had spent the years since they’d realized his sons had a third knowing it was entirely possible they’d both drop dead with no warning at all. Having accidentally  _ caused _ that would have been….

His sister shook her head. “Well, it could be worse-”

“Do  _ not _ finish that sentence,” Tajima ordered their sister. Whatever was  _ worse _ , he did not want to hear it. 

She ignored him, as usual, and kept going, “-it could be the oldest one. The one so determined to suborn your heir he didn’t even have the courtesy to wait until you weren’t standing ten feet away from him.” 

“That was utterly unneeded,” Tajima said sourly, because if  _ any _ of Butsuma’s brats should have been killed, he should have ordered a focus on that one, clearly. 

She shrugged, uncaring. “Just placing things in perspective. Now though, what are we going to do about it?”

“There’s the river,” Amatsu said calmly, finally removing his hand from the jug. “We can make sure he’s unconscious when we drop him in, since Madara occasionally gets sentimental.”

Tajima gave his brother a flat look. “Unfortunately there’s also the saying ‘As hard to drown as a Kiri pirate’ which is more relevant - from all accounts he’s nearly impossible to catch and it will only be more difficult since maiming him is off the table.”

The healing soulmates allowed each other when in proximity was excellent, but there were still limits. 

“We’ll just need to be creative,” Amatsu said. “More important is whether the Senju have realized or not.”

And that was the concern. Tajima had no idea how valuable this son was to Butsuma - would he consider the loss of a fighter worth attempting to cripple or kill Madara? He couldn't know about Izuna as well thankfully or he'd have taken action as they spoke. “Make locating and retrieving him one of our top priorities. And rearrange any upcoming jobs that Madara or Izuna have, they’re staying home until further notice.” 

“How are we going to deal with him afterwards?” Amatsu asked. 

Tajima rubbed his forehead, not looking forward to that headache. His first instinct was to take the boy to the river and drown him before sending his head to Butsuma. “I’ll decide when we catch him,” he said finally. If they did go with the drowning option, it would need to be without the involvement of his sons. Madara, at least, would look at him and see his former friend’s last remaining brother instead of the massive liability he was. 

  
  


**\--- Tobirama age 18**

Someone suspected. 

Tobirama didn’t know which of his cousins had seen the dual injury, but rumors had started going around the clan recently, getting loud enough that Father had come to speak to him. He’d deflected, pointing out that it was highly unlikely that Uchiha Madara was the source of the numerous amount of injuries that he’d experienced over his childhood. Their clan had seen Madara fight more than Tobirama had: they’d know even better how unlikely it was that he had been so ludicrously clumsy.

Which left him with the problem of  _ how _ Madara had gotten those injuries because Madara was three years older than him and half his injuries were what he recognized as training injuries from  _ well _ past when Madara would have been old enough to have moved past those sort of mistakes. So what were the Uchiha doing with their clan heir, that he got those injuries? 

And there was the simple fact that he had no idea if Madara had noticed - they’d had a clear view of each other, but it had been a battlefield and Hashirama’s mokuton tended to be distracting for some people. He needed to operate as though they did though, there had been too many of them with their sharingan activated for everyone to have missed it. Which meant that he could no doubt expect at least some form of attack from them - he doubted that Tajima would be willing to leave his clan heir with such a large liability and killing Tobirama would neatly solve the issue. 

  
  


**\---Madara age 20**

“Uchiha.” 

Madara nudged Oichi behind him, turning his attention to the man currently crouched twenty feet overhead. He’d noticed him approaching, but hadn’t sensed anyone with him which was - had he not  _ told _ his clan? His sister shifted, peeking around his arm but still staying mostly behind him, which he was thankful for. 

“How did you get this far into our territory?” Madara studied him, wondering exactly what he was doing here - there wasn’t any way that this had been sanctioned by his clan, because the odds that he’d just happen to be passing through their territory, or that he’d even risk it instead of going around, just as Madara was  _ finally _ out of the compound without any sort of escort for the first time in three months were laughable. 

Tobirama’s shoulders twitched in what might have been a shrug. “Your patrols’ schedules are obvious to anyone with working pattern recognition.” 

That didn’t really answer the question, but Madara could figure that out later. “ _ Why _ are you here?”

This time he got a scathing look, but he was willing to wait until he got an actual answer - it wasn’t as though he had any sort of deadline to meet, the village they were going to could wait. “This,” Tobirama said, “is a problem.” 

“That is an understatement,” Madara agreed, crossing his arms and shifting his weight slightly. Though that answered the question of whether Tobirama had realized about him. He didn’t think that the rest of the Senju knew. There was no way that Tobirama would have been let out of the compound if the clan had known. “So what did you want?” 

Somehow he didn’t think Tobirama had shown up to just follow him back to the compound and Madara couldn’t  _ make _ him. He could definitely beat him if it came down to it and the fact they were in proximity negated the injures - for them at least- but he had Oichi behind him and Izuna back at the compound. And if he got into a serious fight the first time out of the compound, he wouldn’t be leaving again. 

Tobirama frowned at him, but there weren’t a lot of solutions - Tobirama staying with the Senju would never be acceptable and they both knew it, just as Madara wouldn’t be going to the Senju. “I want a solution that doesn’t end up with me dead. Or you,” he added after a second. “And don’t suggest going with you, I’d rather not wind up with a pillow over my face and I’m not going to get locked into your compound for the rest of my life.” 

“That’s the only solution that Father’s going to live with,” Madara said, although he could sympathize - he and Izuna  _ hated _ being compound bound without active work. “You’re too much of a liability if you’re with your clan.”

“The pillow or the imprisonment?” Tobirama asked sardonically, before he continued, “I haven’t mentioned this to Hashirama, by the way.” 

_ Thank everything _ . “Staying in the compound,” he said, because he could talk Father out of killing him. “You can’t tell me you’re safer with your own clan if they knew.”

“I’m not sure how often I can find you,” Tobirama said, instead of answering, which was an answer in and of itself. “You spend too much time in your compound.”

“How long  _ is  _ your range, if you know that?” Oichi asked, frowning slightly. 

“I can find your compound from the border,” Tobirama said and Madara bit back a curse - his range was well upwards of ten miles. 

  
  


**\---Izuna age 16**

“This isn’t good.” Izuna surveyed the camp spread out across the river, trying to get a sense of how many shinobi were there. Too many for anything innocuous. He recognized the clan crest, but there was no reason that they should have been here and with this many people. “Father needs to know about this.”

He didn’t move - it was his turn out of the compound and he wanted to extend it as long as possible, since he was starting to go stir crazy and he was pretty sure if he asked Aunt Kishibo if there was anything else he could do, she might kill him. 

“He will.” 

Which was the only warning Izuna got before Daisuke slammed into his side, ramming him into the tree. Bark scraped against his arm and hand as he shoved back, jamming an elbow in the other man’s throat and swapping himself with a loose branch. 

He pivoted and launched himself at Daisuke, drawing his sword as he did. He couldn’t afford to get into a drawn out fight - not only was Daisuke more experienced, they were too close to the camp. He wasn’t going to leave without even  _ trying  _ to maim the traitor though. 

A slice along Daisuke’s inner thigh, but Izuna could feel others staring to arrow in on their location, far quicker than they should have been able to if they’d come from the camp itself. Time to go. 

Izuna turned and bolted for home, hissing as a branch slapped his cheek. At least they had to know something was wrong by this point. They were three days out, but they knew. 

He dropped, barely avoiding a kick. Too close, he needed more room to move. 

A sharp pain right before his leg gave out and he turned the fall into a roll that brought him to one knee, watching Daisuke land at the base of a tree. Izuna exaggerated his breathing, palming a kunai as the other man approached, and shifted his weight to his good leg. 

He was going to get one shot at this - Daisuke had been clan, but he had betrayed them, and Izuna was  _ not _ letting him walk away. Not with what he knew, not with their bloodline, and not with what he’d done. He wasn’t going to be free to endanger the rest of them because he was a selfish bastard. 

Three other people landed behind Daisuke, but Izuna ignored them for now. Daisuke was the important target. He focused, letting his sharingan pick out every movement until he was close enough and then lunged, slamming the kunai into Daisuke’s chest, going through the rib and channeling chakra into the blade - he was going to make sure the bastard was  _ dead _ . 

  
  


**\---Tobirama age 18**

What the  _ hell _ was Madara doing? 

Tobirama finished healing the wound on the back of his leg, spreading his chakra out as far as it would go, piggybacking off the chakra in the roots of Hashirama’s trees, thankful his brother’s trees were just as far and fast spreading as weeds once Hashirama planted them. The last thing he had needed on the way home from a mission was a sudden barrage of crippling injuries!

Madara was… Madara was back in the compound. Tobirama’s scowl shifted to a frown and he rocked back on his heels, sorting through what information he had. There was no way that the Uchiha would so ill treat their clan head’s heir and even less chance that they would attempt to induce eye-related trauma. So unless something had gone castostropically wrong at the compound, Madara was most likely  _ not _ the source of the injuries. 

He was not incapable of readjusting his world view, so in light of this information, Tobirama needed to figure out whether Madara had  _ known _ they had a third and hadn’t bothered to mention it, in which case they would be having words, and who this person was. He started to bring his chakra back to himself and paused, letting it stay out as it brushed against another Uchiha, further afield and whose chakra was… erratic. That was interesting and worth investigating

Tobirama turned, tracing the interesting chakra to its source to the slight northwest of where he was, and headed in that direction - no one was expecting him home for another three days, so this wasn’t going to make him overdue. And he was closer than any of the Uchiha he could feel between the compound and the chakra source, so no worries of interference there. 

As it turned out, he shouldn’t have been worried about Uchiha interference. He balanced on a tree, surveying the fight below him. It was less one sided than he would have thought, given that it was ten versus two, and one of those two was a ludicrously large Cat. The Uchiha stumbled and Tobirama’s palms ached, red welling up. 

His fingers flew through the largest suiton he knew, yanking water from as many nearby sources as possible - he didn’t know this clan or these fighters and both his nominal allies were injured. The wall of water rose with a roar, blasting through the trees, swirling around the teenager and Cat, which as much control as he had over the jutsu now, and swept into the opposing forces. 

The teen took advantage of the lull and threw himself on the Cat, turning and hurtling south again. Tobirama eyed the drowned or half drowned enemy nin before dropping to the ground and heading over to the group. The teen was in one piece and headed the correct direction - he was going to see why they’d decided to expend at least two squads on him. 

….

“So,” Tobirama crouched down on the branch, watching Madara twitch slightly, before Madara’s gaze turned on him, coolly assessing, “there’s a third. And here I thought you were simply a terminally clumsy child.” 

Though that did account for the almost decade of growing pains. It didn’t make  _ his _ life any easier, if his clan found out, or longer. It was one thing for them to convince Father that killing or crippling him for one Uchiha was a good idea, even if it was Madara.  _ Two _ members of the main or immediate branch lines - and there were only so many male members of those - changed the equation. 

Madara was still watching him and Tobirama slid his gaze to the left as black shifted to red - he wasn’t risking a sharingan trap. Bad enough he was almost in spitting distance of the compound, but he’d wanted answers enough that he hadn’t been as cautious as last time. 

“And what are you going to do with that information?” Madara asked, very still as he waited for an answer. 

Tobirama huffed, “Not tell anyone if that’s what you were worried about. I prefer not dying messily.” And it would be messily - it would guarantee that the Uchiha healers or the limited healing couldn’t keep up with the trauma. He might be unconscious for the procedure, as a concession to his place in the family, but that wouldn’t change the fact he was dead. He was already working out multiple exit routes and places to go to ground. He did have the advantage that the clan would be working  _ without _ Hashirama’s help - his brother wouldn’t agree to killing him and Madara both.

Madara scowled, “I  _ told you-” _

“I’m not spending my life in a cage,” Tobirama said flatly. “And I’m not giving your family information about mine.” Not wanting to be murdered for a blood feud was not the same was turning traitor, even if he was the only one that made that distinction. “ _ Or _ letting your family kill me.” Drowning or suffocation weren’t pleasant ways to go. 

“And how long do you think that  _ no one _ is going to notice?” Madara snapped, frustration overtaking the coolness. “It was one thing when you were-” he paused before continuing, “wherever the hell you were. It’s another when we’re literally within five hundred feet of each other!” 

Tobirama considered before dismissing the idea of going back to Mother’s clan - Father would want to know why he was sending someone who was supposed to be one of his front line fighters to a small clan that barely anyone outside of the south had heard of. “As long as possible. Come up with a better solution than locking me up and keeping me like a pet and we’ll talk. Until then, try not to get injured.” 

Madara  _ moved _ and Tobirama jerked back, only to get yanked forward as Madara grabbed the front of his shirt. “There  _ aren’t _ any better solutions,” Madara snarled. “And  _ you _ are currently the  _ only _ one of us that actually can leave their compound whenever they want. It’s not locking you up, it’s keeping us  _ alive _ .” He slammed Tobirama into the trunk, the immediate bite of pain eased by the mutual healing. 

Tobirama stilled for a second as Madara kept going. “And  _ no one _ \- the only person right now that’s going to kill you is  _ me, _ because you’re going to get me and Izuna-” he cut himself off, but that was more than enough information. 

“ _ Our third is your brother?” _ Tobirama demanded, because he should have known this could get worse. “My soulmates - the two people  _ traditionally most compatible _ with me - are two main line Uchiha!” Never mind the elders having to argue Father around, Father would hold the knife  _ himself _ . 

Madara’s smile was thin. “Still think that going back is a good idea?” he asked pointedly. “Although if I told Hashirama, he’d give you to us himself and all I’d need to do is let him blather about peace and architecture for a half hour or so.”

Tobirama resisted the urge to punch him, it wouldn’t do any good. “That would solve the problem neatly.” 

“Not with your father alive,” Madara said. “He’d burn your compound to the ground himself before surrendering even an ounce of control to us and  _ I’m _ not bowing to Hashirama, never mind my father.” 

There was a rustle in the trees before a head of black hair popped up. 

“ _ What _ are you doing _ \-  _ oh.” Izuna blinked at them both, gaze shifting to take in their positions. “Uncle Amatsu is going to be pissed he got this close.” 

“Anyone with basic pattern recognition could figure out your patrol schedules,” Tobirama said scathingly, examining Izuna - this was the first time he’d seen the other shinobi this close. “It wasn’t  _ difficult _ .” 

Madara made a vaguely disgusted noise as he loosened his grip on Tobirama’s shirt. “You’re an idiot if you think that’s basic. It’s about the same level of intelligence as thinking going back to your clan is a good idea!” 

Izuna looked disbelieving. “He’s  _ what? _ Wait, he broke through the patrols, came this far into our territory, and just wanted to  _ talk? _ ” 

When he put it like  _ that _ it sounded less than intelligent, but Tobirama couldn’t argue with him. And they were both right, was the thing. And even if he  _ didn’t _ get killed by his own kin, there was the simple fact that he’d have to stay hidden from two of the largest, most talented clans in Fire and their allies. “You honestly expect me to think that your clan isn’t going to try and get information from me?  _ Forcibly _ , if necessary - your clan doesn’t have to touch me to torture me.” 

Madara didn’t even blink at the apparent non sequitur, a flash of insult crossing his face as Izuna looked equally insulted. “Don’t - that’s not how  _ soulmates _ are treated. What the hell are you doing in your compound, Senju?” 

“I think your father would make an exception for Butsuma’s son,” Tobirama snapped. Father and Tajima hated each other and it wasn’t as though Tajima hadn’t tried to kill Tobirama before. Not seriously, but the attempt had been made. 

“Unfortunately for everyone, they’re going to need to go through me,” Madara said grimly. “You’re  _ mine _ .” Izuna cleared his throat pointedly and he amended, “Mine and Izuna’s, even if you had the bad taste to be Senju.” A pause. “And the worse taste to be Hashirama’s brother.” 

Tobirama huffed, letting his head hit the trunk of the tree, going over options. He couldn’t beat Madara, let alone Madara and Izuna, and he wasn’t going to be safe in the clan. Not for long anyway. Running and hiding until one of the two of them ran him to ground didn’t have any appeal either. “I need to talk to Hashirama,” he said. “I can’t just  _ vanish _ .” 

No, if Hashirama thought he’d vanished unwillingly, he’d come looking. 

There was a long pause and then Izuna said, looking at Madara, who was watching Tobirama, “ _ No _ . Madara, this is a  _ bad idea _ .” 

“I’m aware,” Madara said, releasing his grip on Tobirama. “How long do you need before I should think something’s gone wrong?” 

Tobirama blinked. He hadn’t thought Madara would actually  _ let _ him go. It would make more sense to not - this was as ideal a setup for taking him with minimal injury as they could get. And this from someone that keeping telling Hashirama his ideas were idealistic nonsense. “Two days. And I’m going with you on missions that won’t involve my family.  _ Not _ solo,” he added when Izuna opened his mouth. “But missions with partners are done.” 

“Wonderful,” Izuna sounded resigned. “We’re going to be going to Lightning forever now. Or Iron, even worse.” 

That wasn’t a  _ no _ and made the entire thing infinitely more palatable. 

“Two days,” Madara repeated, dropping down to land next to Izuna. “We’ll be waiting.”


	29. Hashirama/Kakuzu - fake/pretend relationship (kidnapper/kidnappee)

“When you say your brother is missing, you mean that you’re covering for him while he dumps all the excess paperwork off on us,” Izuna said, starting to dig through Hashirama’s desk. Tobirama considered stopping him, but if Izuna wanted to risk running afoul of Mito’s security seals, that wasn’t Tobirama’s problem. 

“No, I mean Hashirama is missing and I can’t sense him,” Tobirama snapped. It was slightly disconcerting - there wasn’t a time he couldn’t remember Hashirama’s chakra buzzing in the back of his head. He didn’t think his brother was  _ dead _ , but the number of times Hashirama had bothered to suppress his chakra could be counted on one hand. 

Madara was frowning out the window, but he abruptly shook his head and stood up. “Well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something, but Izuna and I have the thing at the Earth Country border.”

“We do?” Izuna asked at the same time Tobirama said, “You said you didn’t want anything to do with that headache.”

“We do,” Madara said firmly, ignoring Tobirama entirely. “If you have a problem with the clan, talk to Hikaku or Uncle Amatsu. I’ll let you concentrate on your family issues. Izuna, we’re leaving,  _ now. _ ”

Tobirama blinked at the empty space that had housed the two Uchiha, a small spattering of leaves now covering the office. If he’d known  _ that _ was the way to motivate them… but that still left him with the problem of figuring out where the hell his brother had vanished to. 

\---

This was a novel experience, Hashirama decided, leaning back against the tree and relaxing as the shinobi from… Taki, he thought the man had said, paced around the clearing and Hashirama amused himself by using mokuton to loosen and tighten the ropes the man had tied him with, wondering if the man would notice. 

Well, man - the shinobi was still filling out his final growth, so possibly in his late teens. It was almost nostalgic, really. Out on a mission, ambushed by the enemy… honestly, he should stop letting Tobirama talk him out of taking missions. 

“So what now?” he prompted after a bit. It seemed prudent - he’d had to pretend to be unconscious of almost an hour and he  _ was _ getting bored. “Have you sent a ransom to Konoha yet?” 

The shinobi glared at him. He’d take that as a no then. “I sent them a message!” The shinobi insisted. “And the daimyo - now the nation will know that your shinobi village is too weak to protect his court from brigands!” 

Not particularly, though the daimyo was going to be very confused once he got the message. Tobirama was going to be confused until he connected the kidnapped ‘noble’ with Hashirama deciding to take a brief vacation. Then he was going to be irritated. 

Ah. Mito might be irritated as well. She was seven months pregnant but Hashirama didn’t choose the mission, the mission chose Hashirama. What if he had been an  _ actual _ noble? This could have been dangerous.

“So what if Konoha doesn’t pay the ransom?” Hashirama asked, injecting a slight quiver into his voice. He thought he did fairly well, but the Taki shinobi gave him a sharp glance. Well, he had never been picked for undercover work for a reason. 

The Taki shinobi frowned. “Then I’m going to cut your head off and send it to them.”

Well, that wouldn’t do. “What about your village? Are they big enough to protect themselves from Fire’s retaliation?”’

He knew they weren’t - they were an independent village that was a mix of families from northern Fire and southeastern Earth, but there weren’t more than probably fifty people there right now, according to Izuna, who had investigated. He’d recommended either forcing them into the village or wiping them out before they became a problem - so far Hashirama had resisted either option. 

He still wanted to avoid the second option - so far the shinobi has proven interesting. He’d swing it to Tobirama as a recruitment drive!

His brother couldn't possibly get mad at him _then_. 


	30. Tsunade/Izuna - ultra-rare

One day, Izuna thought sourly, he’d find a problem that he couldn’t  _ reasonably _ trace back to the Senju. Today wasn’t that day, of course, but there were other concerns. Mostly that he couldn’t just set the three people in front of him on  _ fire _ and be done with it. 

“And you offer us no guarantees that you’ll be a loyal member of Konoha?” 

Izuna smiled thinly at the three elders in front of him, tapping a finger on the hilt of his sword, and expanding his chakra outward until he located the lone Uchiha signature in this miserable excuse for a town. He wasn’t sure yet  _ why _ there was only the one and the last two days hadn’t yielded any answers, but he was going to find out. 

“Absolutely not. You have my guarantee that… actually, you don’t have my guarantee for anything,” he said. “ _ I _ swore no oaths to you and there is no one in your entire village that could possibly take me in a fight.” 

There was a pause and several of the shinobi that had arrived to  _ request _ that he meet with these three shifted uneasily, before the woman spoke. “But Uchiha Sasuke has sworn those oaths. If you do not offer us something, you will not be permitted -” as though there was a single person in this room capable of  _ stopping _ him, “-to stay with your young kin.” 

He could kill everyone in the room, take the boy, and leave. But that would send whoever survived this hunting for them and they would be two Uchiha alone, which was never good. And if the people in this room were any indication, the boy was going to pathetically unable to defend himself. “Well then. You have my guarantee that so long as nothing endangers my kin, you will not have to deal with my retribution.” 

They exchanged glances before the one-eyed man nodded sharply. “That will do for the moment.”

Izuna sneered. “How generous of you.” 

\-------

“There’s another room that’s cleaned.” The boy shifted uncomfortably as Izuna stared at the large family house in front of them. “I - wasn’t sure where or if-” 

“This will do for the moment,” Izuna interrupted. “In the morning we’re going to start dealing with the rest of this while I figure out what happened.” 

“Itachi murdered them!” Sasuke burst out, eyes shifting red, and that was another thing - discipline. He couldn’t activate his eyes at every emotional outburst. “He killed all of them and-” 

“Enough,” Izuna said shortly, dropping a hand to the back of his neck. “How many people were in the clan before they died?” He might as well make the boy work through this logically on his own - he clearly hadn’t given it enough thought before now. 

Sasuke’s brow furrowed and he said hesitantly, “Maybe three hundred? But it was late and no one was expecting- and I wasn’t  _ there _ , I was late...” 

Izuna herded him into the house, noting that this was set up as a family house, not a single dwelling for a young boy, and pausing in front of a predominantly displayed portrait of an older couple and two boys. He searched the rest of the room - this was the most recent portrait, which gave him a timeline for how long ago the clan had died. “How old were you?” 

“Seven, but I was too weak to kill, Itachi said-” 

“Weaker than the infants?” Izuna asked pointedly. “Never listen to traitors. If they’re insane enough to turn on their kin, nothing they say can be trusted.” 

Sasuke blinked, having apparently never considered that, but that was understandable. What seven-year-old mistrusted those over them? It would need to be remedied, but it wasn’t an error in judgement worth reprimanding. He raced after Izuna as he entered the kitchen, Izuna sidestepping to avoid the twelve-year-old running into him. “I don’t have much, it’s just me.” 

“Then it will be fine,” Izuna told him. “Tomorrow we are going to begin cleaning. There’s two of us, we don’t need all of this. Have you looked through any houses?” 

A quick shake of his head, Sasuke paling. “Not after- the bodies were removed-” and Izuna would be figuring out what happened to them tomorrow too.  _ Someone _ was going to be having just as bad a time as he currently was, “-there was the blood and I could- I got Mom and Dad cleaned up.” 

They’d left the seven-year-old alone in a compound of bloodstains and ghosts. Izuna’s estimation of the village and its usefulness kept dropping, just when he thought it couldn’t get any lower. Clearly, remaining here was not an option, but it would take time to arrange for an alternate place to relocate. He needed to learn the local and international politics and he needed to get his hands on the jutsu that had summoned him, because backup that had made it through puberty would be nice. 

The boy hadn’t mentioned having to clean his brother’s remains. 

Izuna prepared dinner, sorting through what absolutely needed to be done and what he merely wanted done, giving Sasuke time to calm. “We’ll start training tomorrow,” he informed him. “You need to learn how to control your sharingan and how to use it efficiently, which we can do before I go track down the clan’s finances.”

“Saito Haruka does those,” Sasuke volunteered. “Rin keeps track of what she does.”

He noted the names, displeased there were outsiders managing the clan’s money but acknowledging that there weren’t any options either. “What’s your daily routine?” He’d need to summon his Cats - he couldn’t be in two places at once. 

“The chunin exam messed with everything,” Sasuke said. “But before I had training in the morning and D-ranks in the afternoon.”

He’d need to figure out who with and evaluate them for himself. But that was for tomorrow. 

\-------

“ _ You’re _ Hashirama’s granddaughter?” Izuna asked skeptically, staring at the woman sitting behind the desk. “You reek of  _ cheap  _ spirits and have an aversion to blood.” He glanced at the three elders standing behind her, “Did you have absolutely  _ no one _ better? The perverted fool would have made a better choice. At least he’s not a  _ deserter _ .” 

Deserters were to be killed, not welcomed back and given the highest authority possible. No self-respecting shinobi would swear loyalty to them.

“Had an aversion to blood, brat,” the woman said and Izuna narrowed his eyes. This… female was miles away from being able to disrespect him. Unfortunately, he was  _ still _ in no position to take his cousin and leave, though there was the grim satisfaction that he’d just killed the traitor to the clan. Now he simply needed to deal with everyone else involved - another reason that he couldn’t leave before identifying them. It was less tedious to kill them on the way out then attempting to break back in. 

“My apologies. Clearly you’re well on your way to redeeming yourself for blatant treason. A credit to your clan.” There was an uncomfortable cough from behind him. Izuna ignored it. 

“Get out of my office,” she said after a moment. “You’ve bought goodwill by killing a traitor to the village. Don’t push it.” 

Izuna didn’t move. “I took care of an internal problem but also handled an equal threat in the Water nin, both of them targeting  _ your _ distant kin. I want their bounties and the sharingan returned to my clan.” 

“You’ll get Itachi’s body, of course,” the woman elder said and Izuna noted the one-eyed man looked displeased at that. Something to look into.

“No, the  _ other _ sharingan. The one that was stolen from my clan and given to another,” Izuna clarified. “I want  _ that _ one back.” 

“Hatake Kakashi is a loyal member of the village-”

“And not an Uchiha,” Izuna interrupted. “He should never have been given the sharingan in the first place, let alone been allowed to keep it.” 

The elderly woman’s hand tightened on her cane. “The clan agreed that the boy could keep the eye, in respect to Uchiha Obito’s dying wishes, in exchange-” she cut herself off. 

“...In exchange for what?” Izuna asked softly. “And a dying fifteen-year-old has no business making such promises.” When no one said anything, he repeated, “In exchange for  _ what?  _ If I have to dig up the clan and council records to find out, I will, but  _ no one _ will be happy afterwards.” 

“Certain concessions were granted,” the woman said grudgingly. “And nominally the boy was placed  _ partially _ under the authority of the Uchiha.”

“I am going to be generous and assume that the concessions and rights were continued after the massacre in order to ease things for the last remaining member,” Izuna said, although he assumed no such thing and would be finding those records. “Hatake is no longer  _ nominally _ a member of the Uchiha. He either is, in which case he has a half-day to show himself to me, or he is not and I will be taking the eye back. There are  _ no _ other options.” 

They were no longer dealing with a traumatized child and if they hadn’t realized it in the past two weeks, he was going to ensure that they knew it  _ now _ . 

\-------

Whoever this Namikaze Minato was, he was a very good talker and if he wasn’t dead, he was going to be soon, Izuna decided as he skimmed through the records of the council meeting that had guaranteed Hatake his eye. The man had talked circles around Sasuke’s grandfather - Hikaku’s son - wheedling minimal concessions in exchange for the Uchiha’s bloodline and proof that their eyes could be harvested. 

Minimal except for… Izuna flipped back two pages and started reading again, carefully listing each concession as it appeared, making sure that he had all of them. Some of them, like the greater authority for the military police or the constant partner for Hatake, weren’t feasible for the moment. Others, like the tenth of the Hatake early income and the Nohara girl being confined to the village, were and had even been upheld. 

But the last two conditions - Hatake being under the authority of the Uchiha and Nohara in marriage, were dependant on the Uchiha reminding people. Izuna drummed his fingers on the list and thought about it. The first, he was doing. The second… she was a skilled medic and giving up even one of the concessions that the clan had rung from the village felt like a defeat. 

Well, he didn’t need to sleep with her to marry her, and if he did find something better - which was looking increasingly unlikely - he could always leave her here, trapped in the Tsukuyomi. Or bring her with them - it wasn’t as though there were many medics that specialized in the sharingan. 

“Where’s Hatake?” The man had yet to show his face and Izuna’s deadline was rapidly approaching. If he’d been hoping to make a good impression, that chance was gone, not that it had been likely to begin with. 

Sasuke glanced at the clock. “He might be at the hospital right - We should tell Rin you’re here,” the boy said, turning towards the front door. “She probably doesn’t know yet.”

When the name had first come up, Izuna had dismissed her, but he’d just seen the name in the council records, and she was now marginally more worth his time. “You said she was in charge of clan finances?”

“She’s the only adult in the clan left,” Sasuke said, sliding on his shoes. “It’s on a technicality, because she married in, but now you’re here.”

Izuna let him take the lead, turning that over in his head. She wasn’t blood, it would be natural that she wouldn’t fulfill her obligations now that there was nothing to tie her to them. “And you’re living on your own.”

Sasuke scuffed the ground and mumbled something, Izuna raising an eyebrow and waiting expectantly until he finally said, “I told her she wasn’t a real Uchiha because Itachi didn’t kill her and she wasn’t allowed in the compound. I shouldn’t have.” He hastily added as they came to the hospital, “But she didn’t really listen to me despite moving out - she makes sure that I’m alright and takes care of everything.”

Inside it was organized chaos, a mix of shinobi levels of chakra and civilians. Sasuke gave the front desk a wave and headed back into the building, the shinobi on duty frowning at Izuna before leaning over to say something to the man leaning casually against the desk, but they weren’t stopped. The back was quieter, if just as busy, and again no one stopped Izuna when they saw he was with Sasuke. 

The boy grabbed one of the medics, an Inuzuka woman accompanied by one of the smallest nin dogs that Izuna had ever seen - the thing barely came up to his knee. She barely gave Izuna a glance before saying impatiently, “Rin’s sleeping right now Sasuke. Is this important - she’s scheduled for a surgery in a few hours.” 

“Her clan head wants to speak to her,” Izuna said sharply and the Inuzuka woman blinked at him before glancing down at her dog. 

“No, he’s real,” the dog said, sitting down and scratching its ear. “Smells like the kid.” 

She shook her head. “Right, ok then. Third door on the left, tell her to eat whatever’s left in the fridge when you wake her up.” A garbled message came over a device in the ceiling and the woman cursed and took off down the hallway. 

Security here was appalling. 

Something else to complain to Tsunade about. He had a rather extensive list. 


	31. Hashirama/Izuna/Mito - arranged marriage (hostage marriage)

“-won’t see me!” 

Izuna bit his tongue and hunched over the scroll he was reading, trying to ignore Hashirama’s pacing. He was not going to engage, he was  _ not  _ going to engage-

“This was supposed to bring the clans together!” Hashirama gave him a vaguely accusatory look, as though it was  _ Izuna’s _ fault that Madara had finally wised up. “And now he’s barely responding to messages.”

“Which I’m sure has  _ nothing _ to do with keeping his only living sibling hostage,” Izuna said sarcastically. “Or the lack of direct communication or your inability to keep me in one piece in your own  _ house _ . I’m sure none of that has any bearing on the situation whatsoever.” 

If there was one thing he might term good about the situation it was that Madara had  _ finally _ realized what a manipulative asshole Hashirama was. Apparently telling him that every day from eight to twenty hadn’t done anything, he’d needed a  _ practical demonstration _ . 

“Married,” Hashirama said absently. “And if you’d stop wandering off you’d be fine.” 

If he went for his throat, he might be able to rip the artery out before the mokuton kicked in. Izuna eyed the distance for a second, calculating the angles, before deciding that Hashirama had prudently chosen to pace just outside of lunging range. 

“So if I walked out that door, you’d just let me go back home?” Izuna asked pointedly, finally tossing the scroll to the side. “Oh right,  _ you _ decided to tie me to my  _ bedroom _ with a pain seal. Do you do the same thing to Mito? Do  _ all _ of your clan’s spouses get tied to their beds on threat of  _ debilitating pain? _ Or is it just the  _ hostages _ .” He sneered. “And I’m already confined enough in this compound, I’m not letting your lack of discipline keep me from getting exercise. At least you’ve finally managed to convince my brother that you’re just as treacherous as the rest of your kin.”

Hashirama grabbed his chin, forcing it up so that they were locking eyes. Izuna twitched,  _ wishing _ he had the mangekyo. “You had a choice,” Hashirama pointed out and was he honestly that delusional? “You agreed to come, of all your relatives.” 

“Yes, because me or  _ Madara _ was such a choice,” Izuna snarled. They didn’t know about Izumi, she hadn’t even gone on her first mission yet, and like hell were they going to let the Senju get their hands on a sharingan. “And you’ve already manipulated him enough, even if he wasn’t clan head.” Hashirama’s fingers tightened and Izuna smiled thinly at the first spark of anger that he’d seen out of Hashirama yet, starting to decide what he’d say next, goading Hashirama’s temper, except…  _ Don’t do anything stupid. _

Three people. He bit the inside of his mouth until it bled. Three - four people needed him to come home. He jerked his head back, Hashirama’s hand falling away, and Izuna poked at the bruises for a second. “Well, I’m sure  _ these _ will be fun for you to explain the next time Madara comes to visit.” Remind him that he had Madara at least on a little bit of a leash, walk him back from his anger. Izuna made a note to  _ never _ tell Uncle Amatsu about this if he could help it. The bruises yes. The fact that he’d been foolish enough to goad Hashirama in a house made of  _ wood _ , no. 

Hashirama relaxed at the mention, smiling again and Izuna was going to do everything he could, as soon as possible, to ensure that Hashirama  _ never _ got near his brother again. Or learned about any children Madara had  _ better _ be working on fathering now. 

Who knew what he’d do if he did?

**Author's Note:**

> comments welcome


End file.
